


The Privateers

by BarbWireThong



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Dorky Korra, F/F, F/M, Pirates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 46,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbWireThong/pseuds/BarbWireThong
Summary: In an era when pirates served as unofficial extensions of the Royal Navy, Korra and Asami find adventures on the high seas.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 357
Kudos: 323





	1. Welcome to the Avatar

He was incredibly good looking, but that wasn’t why she was staring at him.

Well, it wasn’t the only reason she was staring at him.

Mostly what drew her attention was his coat patch, which revealed him to be a sailor aboard a ship she had great personal interest in, and judging by his slightly haughty demeanor, he was probably more than a mere sailor.

This was enough to make Korra decide, on the spot, to confront him.

“Excuse me?” she said, settling herself into the seat next to him at the bar. “I was hoping to join the crew of the _Avatar_. I could be wrong, but aren’t you someone who can make that happen?”

He turned to face her directly. “And why,” he drawled, “would I want you to join our merry little band?”

 _He doesn’t look very merry_ , Korra thought, noting his dark features and brooding demeanor. However, she was trying to get on his good side, so she kept this observation to herself.

“I can fight,” she informed him.

“Oh?” His response was dismissive, even more so after he turned away from her and resumed drinking his mead.

Korra hadn’t come prepared for this. When she’d headed out this evening, she had simply planned to get away for a while and enjoy a drink. Now she had to look around to find a sword.

“May I borrow this?” she asked one of the bar’s other patrons, and before he could object, walked back to the man from the _Avatar_.

“I can fight,” she repeated.

He turned back toward her slowly, and the first emotion she saw on his face, other than disdain, was the surprise of discovering she now had a weapon.

“I won’t take it easy on you,” he said, stepping away from his bar stool and unsheathing his own sword.

Bar fights were common enough here in the Southern Tundra that everyone knew the drill. Chairs and tables were quickly moved. Korra and the sailor squared off.

Despite his claim that he would show no mercy, the man fought—Korra believed—a little cautiously. The truth was he was searching for tendencies, looking for weaknesses he could exploit. There simply were none. As for Korra, she knew this was an audition, and so she was doing whatever she could to make the altercation end quickly.

Even though this made her borderline reckless, she still eventually disarmed the man, sending his sword clanging to the floor.

His reaction to that was…to smile.

“Hmm. You’ve just made a big mistake,” he assured Korra.

“It doesn’t seem that way to me,” she fired back. Maybe she’d been trying to make a good impression before, but with her adrenaline surging, she was angry now, and sounded it.

“Are you sure?”

That voice, a woman’s voice, came from behind her, and it was only then that Korra felt the point of a sword prod her in the back.

“Please, join us outside?” prompted the woman, surprisingly polite given everything.

And given everything, Korra found herself unable to refuse. The man whose sword she had “borrowed” reclaimed it as she left.

When they finally exited the building into the cold night, an unarmed Korra was allowed to face her captor.

She was long and lovely, with midnight-black hair, a fair complexion, and eyes so green, Korra recognized their color even from a distance.

“So why did you challenge my first mate to a duel?” she started, tilting her head toward the broody man now next to her, and then putting one hand on her hip as she waited for an answer.

 _Your first mate?_ Korra registered what the information meant quickly. “You’re the captain of the _Avatar_?”

“I believe I asked you a question first?” the woman replied, subtly moving the sword she still pointed at Korra to remind her who had the upper hand. “Why does a girl from the Southern Water Tribes want to join a crew of Republic City privateers?”

“I’m from Republic City,” Korra explained. “Well, not originally, but I live there now. I’m only here visiting some family.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. Her message could not have been clearer had she spoken it aloud. _And?_

Korra mulled over what she wanted to say. She couldn’t exactly be honest about her intentions. She was not, however, a practiced liar. She decided to be as truthful as she could, hoping it would be enough. “I’m tired of reading about life in books. I want to be out there,” she said slowly, gesturing in the general direction of the docks, which were about a mile away, “living it.”

“And I’ve heard a lot about the _Avatar_ ,” she concluded.

“Just nothing about her captain,” the woman laughed.

Korra looked down and scuffed a foot along the ground.

“It’s all right,” the woman assured her, finally dropping the sword. “I prefer it that way. It can be annoying, but I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you how useful it can be to be underestimated.”

She reached out a hand. “Asami Sato,” she introduced. “And tall, dark, and moody here is Mako.”

Mako nodded while Korra shook Captain Sato’s hand, a gesture that Korra found warmer than she expected it to be.

She set that aside as she repeated her request to join the crew of the _Avatar_.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now,” Sato answered. Korra started to protest, so Sato threw up a hand.

“You need to get a sword first…I’m sure fighting like that, you already have one, right? And maybe also an extra tunic?” she pointed out.

Korra felt ridiculous. She couldn’t believe she had overlooked something so obvious, and blushed. Asami laughed lightly, and Mako? He almost smiled again.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow morning, before we depart,” Sato offered, only after it became apparent that Korra’s embarrassment, combined with her sudden change of fortune, had left her tongue tied. “And welcome to the _Avatar_.”

So keen was her excitement, only the earliest rays of sunrise were visible when Korra made it to the dock. Even in that ruddy light, it was not hard to find the ship for which she was looking. It towered over the others, beautifully constructed with a dragon bird figurehead at the bow.

Its curves were supple. Attention had clearly been paid to every detail, even though the ship’s design was mostly bold and broad, not fine and delicate. Outlined, as it was, by the orange hue of dawn, both from the horizon and reflected off the gentle waves, it was a gorgeous sight. 

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

It was the second time in as many days that Korra had been surprised by Asami Sato showing up behind her. She hadn’t been trying to sneak up on her this morning. She simply had a soft and graceful way of moving that did not broadcast her arrival.

Another difference from the previous evening was that Korra had only seen Sato by street lamp before. Now in the glow of early morning, she looked even more lovely.

“Yes, definitely amazing,” Korra said.

“Well, let’s go aboard,” invited Sato.

When they got to the sparsely populated deck, Sato saw Korra looking around her, and the Captain inquired what she knew of the ship.

“A lot,” Korra offered, “being that it was built here by the Southern Water Tribes during the first war with the Earth Kingdom.”

Sato nodded, and allowed Korra to continue.

“The original captain of the _Avatar_ is now the chief of the Southern Water Tribes, but back then, he was a disgraced solider looking for a way to regain the respect of his people.”

“I’ve never actually heard what led to his banishment,” Sato admitted.

Korra, however, was very familiar with the tale. “He made a decision that led to the deaths of civilians.”

Looking horrified, Sato started to inquire whether that meant he had intentionally attacked noncombatants. She was cut off.

“No, no,” Korra assured her. “It wasn’t like that.” It suddenly struck her that Korra had interrupted a captain, but Asami didn’t seem to regard this as a great offense, or any offense, truth be told. In fact, she seemed eager to hear more of the story.

“He attacked a battalion hiding in the forest, and that left a city unprotected,” Korra explained. “So he was stripped of his position, which allowed him to sail alongside the Republic City navy against the Earth Kingdom. When the war was over, he wanted to return home, and having fought successfully on the seas, he was able to do so as a hero.”

This is where Sato was able to pick up. “And he gifted the _Avatar_ to Republic City as a sign the two nations would continue as allies and trading partners. However, members of the Republic City navy were reluctant to sail her. Admiral Hiroshi tried, but he’s…a little set in his ways, shall we say? He just couldn’t get used to the Southern Water Tribe construction. That’s why King Wu decided to hand her over to us.”

Korra knew whom Sato meant by “us.” They were essentially a crew of professional pirates, harassing Earth Kingdom ships and doing many of the same things as the navy, but outside the official chain of command. There was something, though, that Korra didn’t understand.

“Does the _Avatar_ really sail that differently?” she asked.

Asami nodded. “She’s longer, so it takes her a while to get up to top speed, but when she does, she really flies. She also sits lower in the water, which means navigation is harder, but that happens to be a specialty of mine.”

Sato was smiling confidently. Korra found herself helpless, but to respond in kind. 

Korra also realized that the two had become so engrossed in conversation, they had temporarily suspended their walking tour of the ship. She was eager for it to resume.

Because it had been described to her so many times, Korra felt like she had been here before. Actually finding herself in this spot was a surreal experience, like waking up in the place about which you were just dreaming.

Their trek ended under the quarter deck, in front of the captain’s cabin. “You’re the only other woman on the ship, so we’re going to have to bunk up,” Sato explained. “You can leave your rucksack here.”

She opened the door, and Korra’s eyes adjusted to the change in light as she walked inside.

“Umm…” She struggled to find the words.

“I know,” Sato shrugged. “It’s a bit…much? But it was designed for the man who is now the chief of the Southern Water Tribes. I just inherited it. I would have been happy with a simpler set up.”

Indeed “simple” was not the word to describe the room. There was a sumptuous, four-poster bed; a desk with neatly organized maps and navigational equipment; a small library’s worth of books; and an armoire large enough that it was functioning both as a wardrobe and armory. There was a polished tiger shark jaw bone affixed to the wall, and Korra recognized in it the influence of the Southern Water Tribes.

The rest of the décor, however, was much more a reflection of the Captain. The red that featured predominantly in the room’s rug as well as the curtains and bedding was the same color as Sato’s waistcoat and breeches. Though everything was tidy, it didn’t come across as sterile. She seemed to have infused the surroundings with the same elegance that she herself possessed personally.

“Amazing,” Korra said again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading. This is my first time sharing fiction writing anywhere, so encouragement would be appreciated! What I'm trying to accomplish is a story that creatively echoes beats from the original Legend of Korra series. For instance, in this chapter, Mako's fighting style is reminiscent of his rope-a-dope, pro-bending strategy. You'll see more moments like that as the story unfolds.


	2. Starting to Get Complicated

The first three days at sea were uneventful. The decks needed swabbed, the guns oiled, and the sails mended. As sturdy a ship as she was, the _Avatar_ battled nature just as much as any other and, therefore, required just as much vigilance.

Korra, as the newest member of the crew, spent quite a bit of time in the crow’s nest, a spot up high enough that the motion of the ship could give even the halest of sailors sea sickness. It was also cold, and lonely work. Having lived so close to the South Pole, the cold didn’t bother her much. The loneliness? That was another matter.

Perhaps that’s why she treasured her evenings with the Captain so much. They talked a little every night before going to sleep. Asami mostly told her tales of the _Avatar_ and her crew, which Korra found valuable, because she was just getting to know them. For her part, Korra discussed growing up in the Tundra, leaving for Republic City in order to further her education, and she vaguely talked about her family being the reason she was such a talented swordswoman.

It was fine that she didn’t share details. Neither woman was pressing for them, or insisting on in-depth answers. They didn’t ask each other anything that could be considered intrusive or impolite. It was a simple, companionable relationship they were building, and that seemed to be fine with both of them, especially as they had rarely had another woman for company before.

Yes, there was a warmth there, but there was no need to overthink things.

So, of course, Asami started overthinking things.

“Mako, how is our latest addition to the crew working out?” she asked one day, while Korra was doing her usual turn in the crow’s nest.

“You were right to invite her aboard,” Mako answered. “She’s strong, hardworking, and she can do real damage with a blade.”

Sato smiled, recalling Korra and Mako’s fight on the night they met.

“She even gets along with the other men even though she doesn’t gamble, or swear, and drinks mostly tea and water. She’s a lot like you that way,” Mako continued.

Shaking her head, Asami disagreed. “She’s not like me,” she insisted. “I don’t do those things, because—as the captain—I need to hold myself apart in order to maintain good order and discipline. Korra? She’s just innocent.”

“Well, she shouldn’t cause us any problems then.”

Asami actually laughed at that idea.

“She would as soon spit in my eye as follow an order.”

Mako couldn’t understand his captain’s logic. He pointed out that Korra had done everything without complaint so far.

“Because she hasn’t disagreed with any of our commands,” insisted Asami. “Take my word for it, Mako, she’s as strong willed as they come.”

Little did Sato know how soon Korra would prove her right.

There were frequently games of Pai Sho played at night, and that was one of the few forms of entertainment that Captain Sato allowed herself to indulge in. Anyone foolish enough to challenge her knew that only bragging rights would be on the line. After all, taking her sailors for all they were worth didn’t seem like a wise way for Asami to earn the loyalty of her men.

Korra, meanwhile, remained an observer when it came to this particular diversion, but she loved to listen to the music that accompanied the games. One of the men noticed.

“Hello,” he greeted Korra, as she was seated on the deck.

“Hello,” she responded, blue eyes looking up at him.

“I’m Bolin.”

“Oh, the Botato!” Korra knew the nickname from her late-night conversations with Asami. She assumed the moniker didn’t offend the man, because Sato, out of an abundance of kindness, never seemed to share stories that cast someone in a bad light. The man’s broad smile didn’t suggest someone who was easily offended either.

“That’s me!” he confirmed.

Korra’s eyebrows dove, while her lips rose and puckered slightly. Her facial expression was one of deep concentration, trying to figure out the backstory. While the man was stocky, he was muscular, and his shape did not suggest a potato, or any other root vegetable.

Bolin interrupted her train of thought by extending a hand out to her. “Care to dance?”

The invitation came with the easy grace of someone who was prepared to take no for an answer. Korra found it charming, and so—with Bolin’s help—she stood up.

They started to move together, not overly close. It was reassuring to find the sailor wasn’t trying to pressure her for anything. He simply enjoyed the music as well, and the fiddler seemed to enjoy the fact that someone was actually reveling in his music.

So it was that, without anyone seeming to notice, the pace of the tune quickened. The dancers stepped livelier and livelier. Soon they were cantering around too fast for Bolin to keep his balance. He tripped, falling into a nearby barrel, and emptying its contents everywhere. He only just managed to release Korra, whose attempt to grab him and prevent his stumble was unsuccessful.

Even with Korra remaining upright, though, there was a domino effect to the barrel’s destruction. Fish poured out all over the deck. One man walking by slipped on the slimy spill, tumbling himself—right into the fiddler, who in turn floundered into the Captain. 

That sent the Pai Sho board flying.

“Hey!” Asami’s opponent protested, as if he ever really had a shot at winning.

As for Sato herself, she balled her hands into fists, and she took one deep breath before confronting the cause of all the chaos.

“Bolin?” she said surprisingly evenly.

“Y-yes?” he replied standing, but slipping on a carp, avoiding a second crash only by the narrowest of margins.

Asami briefly closed her eyes, as if to shut out the scene.

“Do you know how many meals we just lost?”

“No,” Bolin answered.

Sato continued. This time her question was not rhetorical. “Do you know how you’re going to make up for costing us all that food?”

Bolin hung his head. “I can imagine.”

“Wait!” Korra interjected.

Asami stepped in front of her directly, impressing Korra with her ability to maneuver without skidding on the scattered cod. Sato arched an eyebrow.

Straightening to extra rigid attention, Korra cleared her throat. “Whatever punishment he serves, I should, too.”

“Are you taking issue with the way I captain this ship?” Asami demanded.

“No, no! I’m just…expediting the process by which you realize I’m also to blame.”

“You don’t even know what the punishment is,” Sato pointed out.

“I trust you to be fair.” Korra said. She even surprised herself with this. _Those late-night chats may have made more of an impression than I thought_ , she realized.

“Fine,” Asami shrugged. “Tomorrow you’re both on potato peeling duty. That’s in addition to your usual work.”

_Potato peeling?_

“Oh, so _that’s_ why they call you…” Korra started.

“DOES ANYONE HERE FEEL LIKE CLEANING UP ALL THESE FISH?” Sato said forcefully.

Korra and Bolin quickly sought out mops, but only after adding to their comedy of errors by colliding into each other. It took more than a minute of searching for Korra to find what she was looking for, and as she headed back to do cleanup, she happened again upon Asami.

“Head back to the cabin as soon as you’re done,” she said. It wasn’t an order. With her next inexplicably gentle words, the Captain made clear it was instead a thoughtful suggestion. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day for you.”

Sato wanted to keep an eye on the men following the, admittedly minor, disturbance. Well, that and there were still more games of Pai Sho left to win. Therefore, it was a while before Asami returned to the room she shared with Korra.

And despite the advice she had dispensed earlier, she found the young woman still awake. Korra wasn’t even under the covers. She was sitting on the bed as if she had been waiting.

“I wanted to apologize,” Korra explained.

Asami literally handwaved that away as unnecessary. “It was a savvy move: showing the others you’re one of them.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I did it. I did it, because it was the right thing to do,” Korra insisted.

“Then why apologize?”

Pulling at the fabric of her breeches, Korra thought about that for a moment before answering, “I didn’t mean to make things harder for you.”

Sato considered laughing it off, pointing out that she assigned Bolin to potato peeling duty all the time, but Korra seemed so upset, joking didn’t feel like the sporting thing to do.

“I’ve only seen you fight once, but that was enough to know, you’re the best fighter on this ship,” Asami started to explain, although Korra wasn’t seeing in it much of an explanation. Sato sighed at the impatience.

“My point is,” she continued, “in a battle, with your fighting skills, you’re going to be out front. You’ll have to make tough decisions, right?”

Korra assented.

“Because that’s your job, right?”

Again, Korra agreed.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Asami finally drove her point home. “Being the captain is my job. Making sure the crew doesn’t get out of line—or get to be overly exuberant in Bolin’s case…” Here she couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s just what I have to do. You don’t have to apologize for it.”

It was amazing what that assurance did for Korra’s mood. “Aye-aye, Captain!” she answered.

Prior to this Asami hadn’t considered what effect punishing her would have on Korra. It was all about what was right for the ship. Seeing how little it took to raise her spirits, though, Sato started thinking about how the converse may also have been true. The conclusion she reached was that being roommates with one of her crewmen was starting to complicate things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. Every single comment and kudos means a lot!
> 
> A couple historical notes: Yes, working in the crow's nest really was considered undesirable for the reasons given. Ships typically had musicians aboard for entertainment. But, no, it's unlikely that large numbers of potatoes (or any other vegetable) would be the staple of a pirate crew's diet. (There would be too great a risk their food would spoil.)
> 
> Finally, if you want Korra to channel her inner Errol Flynn, don't worry. That's coming. She just had to get honor her inner Three Stooges first.


	3. As Intense As Me

As Asami had promised, the next day was tiring for Korra. It started with her checking the rigging, and climbing up and down from the top mast wearied her well-muscled shoulders. Then she had to tar rope to prevent it from rotting, meaning by the time she joined Bolin in what would normally have been her downtime, she was both sore and sticky.

She still returned his broad smile as he handed her a knife, though.

“Let me introduce you to the fine art of potato peeling,” he said good naturedly, returning to sit on one of two upside-down buckets he had secured for that purpose.

The instruction was hardly necessary, but Korra humored him. “So you do this a lot?” she asked.

Bolin nodded. “The Captain runs a tight ship. Oh, that’s not to say she’s unfair. Just the opposite really. She doesn’t ask us to do anything she herself wouldn’t do, and she’s never cruel.”

It was delivered in a matter-of-fact tone. He certainly wasn’t gushing, and yet Korra couldn’t help but tease him.

“Sounds like you’ve got a little crush on her.”

“Not me,” insisted Bolin. “That would be my brother.”

“Oh? You have a brother on board?”

“I do, and I think you know him. He’s the first mate.”

Korra couldn’t contain a degree of surprise. Yes, Bolin did look like a squatter version of Mako, but…

“I know,” Bolin cut off her thinking. “I got all the looks.”

Laughing, Korra assured Bolin that he had the better-looking smile. “Considering his is nonexistent.”

Somehow managing a tone that was suddenly serious, but not somber, Bolin informed Korra that was probably because Mako had to look out for him when they were younger, as their parents had been killed in a fire.

“I’m so sorry,” Korra apologized.

“I turned out all right, but you should definitely feel sorry for _him_ ,” Bolin said, clearly referencing his brother. “He didn’t have any potatoes for me to peel when I misbehaved.” Without the wink Bolin gave at this moment, Korra might have been stuck for a reply. As it was, she felt comfortable enough to move to a slightly lighter topic. 

“So are they together?” she asked.

“Mako and the Captain? They were, but they aren’t anymore.”

The Southern Water Tribeswoman wanted to respond that was a shame, but the phrase somehow caught in her throat. She dismissed it as being the result of her sudden realization that Bolin had an entire pile of potatoes in front of him, while she was still working on her first one. This entire conversation, he had managed to continue working. She had finished just a single strip. 

Resuming her task, Korra picked up another thread for discussion. “What about you, Bo? Got a girl?”

“Nope,” Bolin answered with a devilish grin. “I’ve got one in every port.”

Korra was fairly certain this was bravado. He seemed decidedly like the type of guy to be faithful to just one woman, and also the type whose light charm would fail him in the presence of a woman he really did like.

They went on talking like this until they had done two barrels worth of the food. Korra thought if she ever saw it again, it would be too soon.

That was the reason why, come dinner time, she plopped her plate next to Bolin, and moaned.

“How am I supposed to eat these?” she grumbled, gesturing toward a meal of dried meat and potatoes, appreciating that only he could commiserate.

However, commiserating was not what he did. “Day’re gut dough?” he answered with his mouth full.

Korra laughed, and they settled into an extension of their conversation from that afternoon. They were enjoying themselves quite a bit, so it bothered Korra when she sensed they had been joined. That objection melted somewhat when she actually saw who it was.

“My compliments to the potato peelers!” Asami Sato had a plateful of Korra and Bolin’s work. She also had Mako at her side. “Mind if we join you?” she asked on behalf of them both.

Far from stymieing their gab session, Asami and Mako only added to it. Korra saw what Bolin meant about the thoughtfulness and sense of duty that led—at least in part—to his brother’s serious demeanor. Sato was kind as usual.

The laughter was frequent, the rare moments of silence weren’t uncomfortable. The four of them seemed to make a really great team.

Prior to the meal being over, Asami sniffed at the air near Korra’s shoulder-length, brown hair. “Make sure you clean up before you come back to the room tonight,” she laughed. “You smell.”

Korra responded with an overly officious salute, playfully exaggerating everything from the angle of her arm, to the straightness of her back, to the seriousness of her facial expression.

Despite the salute, Korra didn’t actually know whether Sato was ordering, or just recommending her to wash. She concurred that it was a good idea, though.

“I’m glad you cleaned up,” Asami said lightly when Korra made her way through the dark, and settled herself into bed. “Otherwise, this would be like lying next to a giant potato.”

“Then I’m glad, too,” Korra agreed. “I wouldn’t want you to try to eat me in the middle of the night.”

There was a long moment of silence as Korra processed what she’d just said. It took a slight rumbling of the bed from the space beside her to significantly ramp up her thought process.

“Oh, spirits.” she whispered. “Spirits. Spirits! SPIRITS!” Her volume increased as she realized her growing mortification. “I didn’t mean…I mean, that didn’t come out like I meant for it to.”

By now, Asami couldn’t contain it, and Korra didn’t know if it was a good thing that her captain was laughing too hard to scold her, or—more likely—mock her. Sato was having a hard time even breathing.

It would have been a glorious sound, Korra thought, if her faux pas hadn’t been the cause of it. At least the darkness hid her blushing.

“Oh, Korra,” Sato finally said. “Is that all it takes for you think such lecherous thoughts? Raava forbid we had a really suggestive food on board, like zucchini.”

As was her habit, Korra said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t really like zucchini, though.”

And so, for the second time that night, Asami was thrown into a complete fit by her roommate being overly, if not naively, literal.

“For Raava’s sake! I like…zucchini just fine. It’s only that I also…” Even if she wanted to (and she really did not want to) Korra couldn’t complete her thought due to the ongoing torrent of Sato’s giggles. There was only one option. Captain or not, Korra started repeatedly smacking Asami in the head with a pillow.

It was typical for Asami to wake well before Korra. She never made it an issue. After all, it was difficult enough to balance the discipline needed by sailors working as an extension of the Republic City navy with the freedom demanded by pirates. Why worry that Korra didn’t rouse herself until the second bell when she still managed to get all her work done?

This morning, looking down at her, Sato was reminded of how hard she had laughed the night before. It had been a while since she had let loose like that, and the memory of it brought her joy.

“Korra?” She whispered, in spite of the fact that she was trying to rouse her. “Korra?” she ventured a little more loudly, jostling her by the shoulder. 

Korra responded by pawing at the air, like she was chasing away a fly. She continued doing this until Asami intercepted her hand.

“Korra?” Sato tried one more time.

The woman’s eyes flashed open. “What? What is it? Did I miss the second bell? Is the Captain…” She suddenly noticed whose face she was looking into.

“Is the Captain going to what?” Asami asked teasingly.

Blinking quickly, before reclaiming her hand and putting the palm of it to her forehead, Korra finished: “Going to put me on potato peeling duty for the rest of my life.”

“That seems excessive.” Sato pulled the covers off the Southern Water Tribeswoman. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

As soon as Korra had changed out of her nightshirt into her matching blue breeches and fur-lined doublet, she followed Sato up to the quarterdeck.

There were a few men up and about, but this area of the ship, they had to themselves.

Asami reverently ran her hand over the helm, much to Korra’s confusion.

“I’ve seen the wheel before,” she said.

“Yes,” responded the Captain, “but would you like to give her a spin?”

Korra assured her that, while there was a lot she was good—make that great—at, this probably was not a smart idea. Something about how excited Asami was, though, told her it wasn’t enough to leave it at that. “Maybe you could show me how everything works?”

What resulted was a masterclass in the operation of the _Avatar_. However, more than any particular lesson on navigation, the operation of the rudder, or the importance of monitoring the weather, Korra took from it a new appreciation for her captain.

Her enthusiasm for the subject, the way she looked while standing at the helm as the sky wakened, it made Korra realize something. “Wow,” she said shaking her head. “Turns out you can be just as intense as me.”

Sato’s face was inscrutable at that moment, but inwardly, Asami’s emotions were a riot. Had she let too much of herself show? “What do you mean?” she asked evenly.

“You never lost your cool when you punished me and Bolin. You never snorted when you were laughing last night.”

“Snorted?” Asami interjected.

“Or guffawed, or slapped your thigh, or…”

“I get the idea,” Asami interrupted again.

“But now I know,” said Korra, “as controlled and proper as you can be, underneath it all, you are just as wild and emotional as I am.”

As much as the idea of being seen, _really seen_ , panicked her, dishonesty suited her even less. “Let’s just keep that between you and me,” Asami said with half a smile.

Korra’s smile, on the other hand, was unreserved. “Absolutely!” Then after a pause, “I mean, aye-aye, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said it before, but I can't stress it enough: Your encouragement means a great deal. Thank you so much for reading and responding. 
> 
> Now some of this is probably obvious, but you'll notice echoes of the LOK scene at the racetrack, where Korra and Asami became friends, as well as Asami's driving lessons here. (The overly officious salute is absolutely a callback to that.) "As intense as me" is what Korra explained in Turf Wars she learned about Asami when she first saw her behind the wheel.


	4. No More Games

There were six barrels floating in the water, but they weren’t mere jetsam. They were targets.

“Ready for gunnery practice, Korra?” Bolin asked cheerily.

“Ready!” Korra exclaimed.

Mako, super focused, still couldn’t convey the same liveliness as his friends. “Better question: Is the cannon ready?”

The trio was going to compete against three other sailors to find out who had the better aim. The sport doubled as a way to keep their skills sharp.

Now they needed to complete their final preparations, so Bolin and Korra scurried to the cannon to make sure its barrel was clear. Mako, whose job it was to line up the shot, took the time to gauge the wind.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s beat the Wolfbats!” his brother added.

“Wolfbats? You gave them a team name? Wait. You didn’t…”

“We’re the Fire Ferrets!”

Korra laughed at the rapport the brothers had spent years perfecting. Mako only sighed.

Bolin clearly wished to offer an explanation in response, but was interrupted by Captain Sato’s command that the “Wolfbats,” as Bolin had dubbed them, take their first shot.

As one of the barrels went up in a rainbow of splinters, Korra thought she saw a flash of light on the railing of the deck. Looking for the source of it, she realized it was a reflection off the spyglass of the sailor currently in the crow’s nest. 

“Mako,” Korra whispered. “They’re cheating!”

Bolin was oblivious to the other conversation going on, so he proceeded to elaborate on the point he was attempting to make earlier, even as he inserted a cannonball into the tube.

“You see, fire ferrets are cute and clever, and I figured that described at least two of…”

“Not now,” Mako hissed.

After Bolin completed his part of the operation, Korra started hers, which was to prime the powder, and put the fuse in place.

“They’re using signals from the guy in the crow’s nest!” she informed Mako, still in sotto voce.

Mako was making some final minor adjustments. Captain Sato was looking at a pocket watch, informing them they had 30 seconds left. Bolin was already holding his hand to his ear.

“Korra?” Mako prompted.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” She confirmed everyone was clear, and covered an ear as well. “Ready!” she called. “Fire!”

Shortly after she placed the burning taper to the fuse, another of the barrels met its demise.

“One each. Your turn, Tahno!” called Sato, again consulting the pocket watch.

Mako and Korra craned their necks to watch the man in the crow’s nest. He was indeed signaling the Wolfbats, but the third barrel was demolished before they could inform Asami.

Their eventual protest turned out to be ineffective anyway. Because the two were shouting over each other, Sato was unable to discern what they were saying. “Your team’s turn, Mako!” she instructed them instead.

Bolin was likewise clueless. “What are you guys doing?” he demanded, using the rammer to shove the cannonball in place.

“Thirty seconds!”

Korra looked from Mako to Bolin, and back. Shrugging, she primed the powder and placed the fuse.

Mako, too, did his part, carried along irresistibly by the momentum of their routine. His aim was true, and there were only two barrels left.

Now, though, he was finally free to alert the Captain about their opponent’s shenanigans. He started to do so, but was stopped by a very different signal from the crow’s nest.

“Ship ahoy!”

“Oh, please.” Mako rolled his eyes. “That guy will do anything to avoid getting caught.”

He felt a tug at his sleeve. It was Korra. Pointing off to the east, she said, “I don’t think he’s kidding, Mako.”

Asami pulled out a spyglass of her own, and also turned her attention east. “It’s a Republic City flag,” she said, frowning. “It’s just not a Republic City vessel.”

“Amon,” Mako whispered.

Sato nodded.

“If our friend up there didn’t cost us too much time by watching gunnery practice instead of the horizon, well, maybe we can catch him…Raise the sails!” Asami ordered.

So ordered, Bolin went to help the others. Sato raced to the helm. It was Mako who took Korra aside to explain.

“Amon is a skirmish fighter for the Earth Kingdom navy. He has a small ship. The _Equalist_ is very nimble, but it wouldn’t do well in a gun battle against the _Avatar_ ,” he said.

“So he tries to fool others by pretending to be a Republic City fighter, when he’s not?”

“Right. He’ll launch a surprise strike, and then sail away.”

“The coward,” Korra mumbled.

“Anyway,” Mako continued, ignoring the aside, “it’s a good thing the captain can recognize Earth Kingdom design when she sees it. Now we can try pursue him. If the winds are on our side, there’s going to be a fight, though, so I’ve got to help us get ready.”

“Right,” acceded Korra. “Me too.”

However, Korra, for all her talent with a sword, had never been in an actual battle. She started instinctively drifting toward her Captain, hoping to maybe receive some instruction, when she was approached by a bald but bearded, older sailor, whose name she knew to be Tenzin.

“Miss, Korra?” he said with a slight bow. Amidst the hustle and bustle currently going on, his soft even tone took on an almost ethereal dimension. “Captain Sato asked me to bring this to you.”

He held out a knife. Korra didn’t reach for it.

“But I have this?” she said, unsheathing her sword halfway.

Tenzin smiled courteously. “That is precisely why you need this. The Captain says you are the greatest swordswoman she has ever seen, and once the enemy sees this as well, they will try to rob you of that strength.”

“But…how?” asked an incredulous Korra.

“If I knew that,” he sighed, “you wouldn’t need the knife.”

Only somewhat convinced, she finally took the blade.

She was somewhat aware that the _Avatar_ had picked up an incredible amount of speed, otherwise the next minutes passed with Korra only being able to think of the challenge that laid ahead.

Breaking that concentration, Bolin called to her. “Korra! We need the Fire Ferrets!”

She assumed her place with no further direction needed, ready to prime the powder and put the fuse in position.

“We’re close enough now, so we’re trying to take out their rudder,” Mako informed her as he raised the angle of the cannon’s barrel slightly. “Ready!” he called when he had it set just as he liked.

“Ready!” repeated Korra. She placed the burning tapper to the fuse, and “FIRE!”

They all watched as the shot successfully incapacitated Amon’s ability to steer. His ship was practically disabled.

Asami grabbed her spyglass again. They were all hoping that the _Equalist_ would run up the white flag after this development. Sato sadly shook her head. Then she instructed her crew to grab the ropes, grappling hooks, and gangplanks.

When it came time to deploy them, however, Korra instead leapt without aid from one ship to another, finishing her landing with a roll.

She fought like a force of nature. Her footwork was that of someone dancing on fire, the movement of her sword so swift, she could have cut a breeze in half. Yet for all this, she was fluid and graceful. Most importantly, her courage made her as tough to move as any mountain.

So talented was she that she was able to subdue _Equalist_ fighters without killing them. She sent numerous of them tumbling overboard. She disarmed others, compelling them to accept their fate as prisoners.

Finally, she saw him. Korra was confident, maybe even cocky, but not since early in her training had she faced someone whose talent could possibly match her own, and Amon was unquestionably good. He was so good that he was able to be theatrical, and it didn’t diminish his effectiveness.

He wore a coat with impractically long tails, a hat that left most of his face in shadow, and a patch over his left eye.

Korra took just long enough to rake in these details before she started her charge. Amon was able to fend off this attack, and the next, and the one that followed, and Korra had a terrible feeling that forcing her to expend her energy had been his plan.

“Face me!” she yelled.

She noticed that this entire time, his feet had been sliding across the deck. Amon was slowly, almost imperceptibly, executing a retreat. As a result, he was able to drop down the main hatch before Korra could do anything about it.

She could only follow him into the darkness.

The fall was slightly greater than she anticipated, and she felt the shock of it shoot up her legs. That was the least of her concerns, though. She was in unfamiliar territory, whereas Amon knew this ground.

Korra could gauge that this was the cargo hold, but that was about the extent of it. In the shadows, she collided with one parcel and then another. Her hearing was unimpaired, and so she clearly heard when a door opened and closed.

She resolutely pursued the sound. Finding the door after a couple minutes exploration and barging through it, her hand tightened on her sword’s hilt.

_They will try to rob you of that strength._

This, she realized. This is what Tenzin had tried to warn her about. Now in the bowels of the crew deck, this hall was too narrow for her to slash or parry. She cursed herself, before hearing the rustling, and feeling herself slammed up against a wall.

Amon’s eye patch was now covering his right eye, and Korra bitterly realized exactly how he was using it to give him an advantage. His left eye, having been covered before, was accustomed to this light. He was able to see exactly where he needed to put his arm for it to be across Korra’s neck.

Her sword fell to the floor. It was worse than useless now anyway. She struggled to bring air into her body. Head foggy, she was only able to think just enough to remember it: the knife, hidden in her boot.

Korra strained, stretched, reached until her hand felt what it was seeking.

She grabbed the knife, and she plunged it into the _Equalist_ captain.

Amon let her go. They both doubled over in pain, but Korra was able to recover more quickly. She found a set of stairs and climbed back up, up to the sun and air, up to where the fight was still raging.

That stopped when Korra emerged topside.

Everyone saw the blood on the knife she was holding. It didn’t take much to figure out what that portended, only to have it confirmed seconds later. Amon stumbled up onto the deck, bleeding, and unable to continue. He staggered forward, and Mako put him in shackles.

Seeing their leader in a different light, powerless and defeated, his followers gave up completely. The struggle ended after that.

Korra was now able to go retrieve her sword, which she did—despite their victory—with a little bit of sadness. Asami seemed to notice that when they reunited.

“You okay?” she asked.

Pondering whether she wanted to answer, Korra was interrupted before she even had a chance.

“Captain Sato!” It was a surprise to Korra that the man who cried out was not one of the _Avatar’s_ crew, but one of the captured members of the _Equalist_.

Turning to face him, Asami smiled. “Ah, you’ve been my guest before,” she said.

“I sailed aboard the _Cavolo_ , but you won’t see me a third time,” he assured her. “I’ll find some other way to make a living. I—uh—just wanted to say thanks, in advance.”

Sato nodded. Returning her attention to Korra, she noted the other woman’s eyebrows were raised.

“What was that about?” she wondered aloud.

“We’ll talk,” Asami assured her. “Later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, again, for reading! Your kind words have meant the world to me. 
> 
> In this chapter, in addition to some action (finally), we get to see gunnery practice, which was a real thing that sailors did, and it makes for a very easy stand-in for pro-bending. (Those darn cheating Wolfbats!) The process of firing a cannon is slightly more complicated than described here, but it did really take about a minute to execute and includes all the steps carried out by Bolin, Korra, and Mako. 
> 
> It's considered quite possible that pirates used eye patches to adjust to changes in light. There's some evidence of it, but it's not considered definitive. 
> 
> Cavolo is Italian for cabbage, because I really wanted Asami to stick it to Cabbage Corp. It should also probably be clarified that Sato's decision to board the Equalist is an act of mercy and show of faith in Korra and the crew. Because she was in a larger vessel, she could have just blown them out of the water. 
> 
> And, yes, more echoes from the LOK series here. Obviously, Amon isn't who he pretends to be, he interrupts a game between the Fire Ferrets and Wolfbats, and is abandoned by his followers when they see him differently.


	5. The Naked Truth

The music and singing were louder, while the drinks flowed more freely that night. It was a party in everything but name, because Sato had expressly forbidden it to be called such. There was, she reasoned, a brig full of prisoners to deal with and a load of pillaged cargo that needed to be taken to port and sold. With work to be done, all “parties” were officially put on hold.

Arms crossed, Korra had leaned up against a wall, watching the celebration, that most definitely was not a party.

Meanwhile, Asami studied her. Unable to unravel the mystery of what was going on inside her head, she walked over to her, curious and a bit concerned. “Now do you want to tell me why,” Sato queried, “I have to order these men not to get too raucous, while I have to tell you to cheer up?”

“I walked right into Amon’s trap.”

“And still came out on top,” Asami pointed out. “Not to mention the number of others you captured. You’re amazing, Korra.”

“But it wasn’t…It’s just,” Korra struggled to find the words. She eventually threw her hands up in frustration, before crossing her arms again. 

Sato tried a different tack, placing an assuring hand on one of those arms. “How about instead of trying to explain to me _why_ you feel like you do, you start by telling me _how_ you feel?”

Korra examined the hand gently hugging her bicep. It gave her the confidence to continue. “Frustrated,” she admitted. “Angry with myself, and a bit sad.”

Her face truly did reflect all that. Mostly it showed in her crystal-blue eyes. Asami was looking directly into them, as she hazarded another question. “So what do you wish had happened differently today?”

This, it turned out, was the right way to break the logjam. Korra’s words came tumbling out in response.

“Oh, I wish I had beaten Amon with my sword. That’s what you brought me on board to do; it’s what I was trained to do; and it’s what my parents would have been proud for me to do. I wish I knew how to thank you, because it was your knife that saved my life. I wish I could have put this into words earlier, because you seem really concerned, and I am upset if I worried you. And I also really want to know why that sailor from the Earth Kingdom thanked you. It seemed like he was grateful to you, or something. And…”

One thought flowed into another, until Korra realized she had unloosed an entire stream of consciousness. Her eyes widened, and a blush turned her cheeks so red, even her own dark complexion couldn’t hide it.

Sato’s eyes, on the other hand, had narrowed. She didn’t want to make Korra squirm, but she really felt like she should consider what she wanted to say.

She briefly thought about responding only to Korra’s befuddlement regarding the _Equalist_ sailor. It was by far the safest, easiest topic to address, and it might be enough to distract Korra from her other worries. Something about Korra, though, wrested a complete earnestness from the Captain.

“I can’t imagine what it was like below deck with Amon,” she conceded. Indeed, Korra hadn’t shared the details of what had happened, but the way she had come up gasping for air and the bruise on her neck more than hinted at it. “But you did what you needed to do.”

Asami continued: “I have been worried about you. That’s a captain’s right.” She smiled to suggest it wasn’t a big deal.

“And the sailor?” Korra asked.

“If we were a Navy ship, everyone we didn’t kill, we’d take back to Republic City to be thrown into a prisoner of war camp,” explained Sato. “As it is, we have more…discretion. So that man is grateful to know that he’s going to be taken to Zaofu, and handed off to Varrick, who will simply ransom him off to the Earth Kingdom. He knows he’s going home.”

“He could come back to fight you again?”

“He already did,” Asami noted. “He said he was a member of the _Cavolo_ ’s crew, and we defeated them over a year ago, but because of that, he was one of the first to surrender this time, knowing he’d be fairly treated.”

Blue eyes looked up into jade ones appreciatively. Then Sato realized her hand was still resting on Korra’s arm, although it had moved from up by her shoulder to lingering just below the elbow.

“Oh!” she said. “Sorry.”

Korra appeared to just realize it as well.

“It’s all right,” she assured her, and now it was her turn to smile to suggest it wasn’t a big deal.

“Maybe it’s time you return to the, uh, celebration, Korra? Just don’t dance with Bolin.”

They both laughed at that. Korra’s laugh, however, was cut short. “But where is Bolin?”

“Come to think of it,” Asami scanned the crowd, “I don’t see Mako either.”

They didn’t even have to discuss it. They knew they were going to search for them together, and they heard them way before they saw them. Their voices were quite heated.

“I don’t want you to thank me, Bolin. I want you to explain why you were being so reckless?”

“Spirits, Mako! I was just off today!”

“That was more than off. It’s like you were trying to get hurt!”

Asami and Korra rounded a corner and discovered the brothers. Captain Sato gave Bolin a chance to answer, but when he didn’t immediately say anything, she stepped in. “What’s this all about?” she demanded.

Mako appeared angry. Bolin seemed caught.

“It’s nothing,” Bolin insisted, but it obviously was. Sato was poised to press for more, when—in a reversal from earlier—Korra placed her hand on the Captain’s arm.

“Maybe you and Mako should go make sure the men aren’t getting out of hand?” she suggested gently.

Mako opened his mouth to protest, but Sato nodded. She had a little idea what Korra had in mind. “Come on,” she instructed her first mate.

After the two left, Bolin still seemed sheepish, but reiterated there was nothing going on.

“Well, maybe nothing you want to tell your captain or brother, but perhaps something you’d be willing to share with a friend?” Korra coaxed.

Moving to the edge of the deck, Bolin placed his elbows on the ship’s railings and looked out over the moonlit water. It was funny, but Korra was right. What he had to say was easier to admit to her.

“I needed the money,” he finally said. “So, yeah, I was probably reckless. You know what they say, right? ‘No prey, no pay.’ We just had to loot that ship. Plus, I could also use the bonus they offer someone injured in a raid.”

“They give bonuses for getting hurt?”

Korra was clearly shocked, but because it was not quite in the way Bolin expected, he answered her question with one of his own.

“You signed the ship’s articles, didn’t you?”

She joined him at the railing. “I…didn’t read them that closely.”

Korra’s embarrassment seemed to relieve some of his own, so Bolin relaxed. He even laughed. “Why would you? They’re only the rules and regulations.”

“Okay, okay!” she conceded.

“There aren’t even that many of them!”

“Hey, weren’t we discussing why you were willing to dive on someone else’s sword for a few extra yuan?”

Just as quickly as Bolin’s ebullience had come, it left.

“Oh, it’s just…I’ve got a girl.” This led to him telling Korra about Opal, who lived in Zaofu, and worked at the Red Lotus.

“She’s a bar maid?”

“The Red Lotus isn’t a bar, Korra.”

“Oh…” There was a long, silent pause. “Oh! I guess that explains the need for the extra money.”

Bolin started waving his hands in front of him realizing what Korra was now thinking. Vehemently shooting down the notion, he said, “It’s not like that. She wants to be with me. She just needs someone to buy her release.”

Korra stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm…All I was planning on buying was a new doublet. Mine is fine for cold nights in the crow’s nest, but a little warm for everyday wear.”

“Korra, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can.”

They worked out agreement on what Bolin insisted be considered a loan, and also agreed that Korra would keep this information to herself. She was able to simply tell Asami that she needn’t fear Bolin being that reckless in battle again. Asami readily accepted it, and she was—with a vow to give Bolin a week’s worth of potato peeling—able to get Mako to do the same.

“What is going on here?” Korra demanded.

Asami had advised her to skip lunch, and return to their quarters instead. There she found not only Asami, Bolin, and Mako all together, but they all had ceremonial paint on their forehead, markings made with cuttlefish ink that Korra quickly recognized as Southern Water Tribe symbols.

“We also have some sea prune stew for you!” Sato proudly announced.

“Plenty of it,” Mako assented, “because none of us can stand the stuff.”

Asami protested. “It’s not _that_ bad.”

“And tonight, we’ll honor the moon by showing her our true selves!” Bolin happily added to the conversation.

Korra could clearly see an attempt to honor her Southern Water Tribe roots in the other gestures, but this last one left her stumped.

“You’re going to…what now?”

“He’s going to dance in the moonlight without any clothes on, of course” Mako explained, as if this made perfect sense.

“But that’s…”

Asami cut short Korra’s protest. “A little early for the new moon, we know. Since we aren’t sure where we’ll be then, though, tonight seemed as good as any.”

Korra looked disbelievingly at her, until she actually saw the captain wink.

Mako started leaving, dragging Bolin by the elbow as he did so.

“We’ll see you tonight, then?” Bolin called over his shoulder.

The last words Korra heard from them before the door closed behind the brothers was Mako informing his younger sibling that he shouldn’t keep his hopes up.

It was only now that Korra realized Asami had cleared off her desk of its usual charts and maps. She was touched by the effort that must have taken, because it had come to accumulate more and more clutter the longer they were away. It was here the captain gestured for Korra to take a seat, so she could enjoy her stew.

“After last night? The way you talked about wanting to make your family proud, and live up to your training? I just wanted you to be able to reconnect with your roots,” Sato said, “but I hope I didn’t overstep. Like, I know we picked our own mark, and that’s not how it’s supposed to work; so that might be disrespectful. We didn’t mean it to be.”

She sounded uncharacteristically unsure of herself. Korra attributed it to Sato working so hard to show she respected the Southern Water Tribe enough to have seriously studied their traditions, while simultaneously acknowledging she was capable of making mistakes.

Korra was glad to be able to reassure her. “The mark of the wise? You picked well.” she smiled.

Asami gave an almost bashful smile of her own. She observed that there was still some cuttlefish ink remaining if Korra wanted to be given a mark, and Korra really did consider it. It was tempting to want to allow Asami to honor her. She imagined what it would feel like to have Asami brush her finger across her forehead, but Korra believed herself undeserving and declined.

Sato relented. Sitting down opposite Korra, she poured herself a small helping of the stew.

“Where did you get the recipe for it?” Korra asked, right as Asami ingested her first spoonful. “Oops! Sorry!” she added, recognizing the less-than-ideal timing.

Sato chuckled when she was able to do so. “It’s all right,” she promised. “The nature of our work? We attract sailors from all over, even some Earth Kingdom defectors. I would sometimes ask the men from the Southern Water Tribe about their traditions.”

Korra wished she knew whether to attribute this to Asami’s natural curiosity, or her kindness, eventually crediting it to both.

“But what about Bolin?” she wondered. “Are you pranking him, or something? We don’t dance naked at the New Moon Celebration.”

Asami shook her head. “More like it’s his brother trying to keep him from realizing he had been pranked. Those sailors I talked about? They tried to insist the dancing was a Southern Water Tribe thing. Mako and I figured out it was a way to get me out of uniform, shall we say?” (She somehow talked about it without a trace of discomfort or awkwardness. Korra ruefully noted that Asami spoke with more composure on this topic than she did on far more innocuous subjects.) “But Bolin believed them, and we’ve been humoring him ever since.”

Korra’s eyes widened as she considered the possibility. “Do you mean to tell me you…”

“I have always politely declined to take part.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Not for the first time, Korra replayed what she had said in her mind, and thought about how else it might have sounded. “Not that you wouldn’t make a lovely dancer!”

_Spirits! That’s even worse._

“I just mean it’s good you didn’t fall for it.” She wasn’t sure if that covered her previous remark, but was pleased with Sato’s reaction, which was to laugh…hard.

“You come from the coldest place on earth, Korra! What possible ceremony is going to involve nudity?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again and again, I want to stress how much every comment and kudos have meant, guys. This is my first time sharing fiction, and you have made it so much more rewarding. 
> 
> As has also become habit? Some historical notes. Pirates generally did leave the sailors they captured alive, because if they got a reputation for killing everyone, nobody would ever surrender to them knowing that to be the consequence, and surrender was the easiest way to capture a vessel. Ships articles were indeed signed by crews. They were the rules by which the sailors agreed to abide. Rewarding injured sailors was a fairly widespread practice. (Although the examples I've seen were mostly for the loss of a limb, so I was being a little liberal with that.) "No prey, no pay," was a common expression. Finally, I have Korra wearing a doublet, as opposed to a waistcoat, because if you Google "pirate doublet," you'll see it does look a *little* like her outfit from the show.
> 
> As for other callbacks to the LOK series? "You're amazing, Korra," is something Asami says in season one. Korra doubting her abilities as a swordswoman is absolutely meant to echo Amon taking away her bending. Several Southern Water Tribe traditions are described here, but are modified slightly to better fit the plot.
> 
> Thanks so much!


	6. The Storm

Korra couldn’t sleep that night. She was still feeling a bit overwhelmed by Asami’s thoughtfulness that day, and also still feeling unworthy of it. On top of that, she was worried that she hadn’t been able to put into words how grateful she was.

She was lying next to Sato, and yet seemed further away than usual.

The ship was also rocking more than usual, as the _Avatar_ had hit a patch of rough weather. It wasn’t the storm that prompted the bellow from the crow’s nest, however.

“Ship ahoy!”

Being that Korra was still awake, she was the first to hear the call, so she shook Asami and told her the news.

Neither changed out of her nightshirt. Each did slip on breeches and boots. Sato added to this the accessory of her spyglass.

When she used it to survey the horizon, she realized the man in the crow’s nest had been wrong. She did not spot one ship, but two.

“Earth Kingdom navy,” she informed Korra, as well as Mako and Bolin, who had joined them. “Not just any Earth Kingdom ships, the _Unalaq_ and the _Vaatu_.” She turned to face her companions. “We wouldn’t survive a battle with the both of them combined. That’s a lot of firepower, and they could box the us in, bombarding the _Avatar_ from both sides.”

“Surrender certainly isn’t an option,” Mako pointed out. “They treat their citizens like prisoners. Imagine how they would treat _actual_ prisoners.”

“It’s a good thing Raava is on our side, then” Korra answered, pointing to a cluster of particularly dark clouds, which were occasionally made even more menacing from being outlined by a bolt of lightning.

Though she rarely seemed flustered, this suggestion seemed to catch Asami by surprise. “Are you saying we should sail _into_ the storm?”

“She’s right,” Mako said. “We have the best captain in any fleet. We might survive it. They will not.”

Bolin did a double take. “ _Might_???”

Sato weighed her options, before deciding there really weren’t any. “Wake up the crew. I’ll need some of them to raise and lower the sails when the time is right. The rest will take everything below deck that will fit, and tie down everything that won’t. Then get below deck yourselves.”

“What about you?” demanded Korra.

Already heading to the wheel, Asami shouted, “Someone needs to be at the helm.”

It took about a half hour to accomplish all that Sato had ordered. The timing of the sails was especially important. They needed to stay ahead of the two vessels chasing them without racing too deep into the roughest seas. As it was, the rain was already coming down so hard, it stung the skin of those caught in it.

Asami thought she was the only such person. Alone on the quarterdeck, she was steering the ship as well as she could with the waves ripping the rudder one direction, and then the other. She was not alone long, however.

“Captain!” shouted Korra, as she climbed up to join Sato.

“Get below!” Asami roared back. “It’s too dangerous up here!”

“Then it’s too dangerous for you to be alone.” The rain and thunder were so loud, Korra had to continue yelling to be heard.

Mako had to yell even louder. “They’re still coming!”

Sato realized in horror that Mako was in the crow’s nest. “You have to come down, Mako!” Conversation with her first mate was impractical, so she directed her next comments to Korra. “The lightning? The waves? He can’t stay up there.”

Looking at how resolutely Korra stood there, it was finally clear that neither she nor Mako was going to obey her, even if Sato could spare the effort to try to make them.

“Fine,” she relented. “Hold on to the binnacle, and I’ll tell you if I need help.” Korra was apparently having trouble hearing her, so Asami gestured to the housing for the ship’s compass, to which Korra latched herself with her strong arms.

Asami kept sailing, every once in a while, getting an update from Mako. The ship rocked heavily. Every bolt of lightning sparked a moment of panic until Mako shouted again. The trio was soaked and cold.

Finally, though, they got good news. Immediately after being doused by a wave that carried the force of a prize fighter’s punch, they heard a crashing sound that wasn’t thunder. Mako whooped and announced the sinking of the _Unalaq_ and _Vaatu_ , taken by the same giant wave. It had caused the two vessels to collide, making what had been their strength, their teaming up to fight, the ultimate cause of their undoing.

Mako had to climb down slowly from his perch, having jammed his shoulder into the main mast while he was being tossed about. He then declared that he would head below deck, fearful of what had happened during the interim with Bolin unsupervised. What he stoically left unsaid was that he needed treatment for his arm.

It was up to Korra and Asami to ride out the storm, but that task was getting harder and harder. At one point, the wheel was wrenched from Sato’s grasp with so much force, it threw her to the deck.

“Asami!” Korra yelled, leaping toward her.

“Korra, the wheel!” Sato pointed to it, which Korra rightly interpreted as a plea to stop its wild spinning.

She had to lean into it, and as Korra pushed against the direction the wind and waves were trying to take her, Asami pulled herself off the deck. She stumbled back to the helm and placed her hands on top of Korra’s. Together they were eventually able to drive the wheel where it needed to be.

It was a process that played out multiple times throughout the evening. Sometimes it was a wave, and sometimes it was the force of the wheel sending them sprawling. Sometimes even just the herking of the ship was enough to cost them their balance on the slick, rain-soaked deck.

The worst of it passed in time for daybreak. Fittingly, it was the somehow still serene voice of Tenzin that greeted the two shortly after the very last clap of thunder.

“Captain, are you ready to turn over the helm?” he asked.

Sato sighed. “More than,” she assured him.

If they had been any less exhausted, they would have noticed the many appreciative looks they got from the sailors coming topside. As it was, Asami and Korra could think of nothing but getting back to their cabin.

Once there, they felt ensconced from everything that had happened the hours prior. The outside world was left outside, with the exception of the now gentle rain that played them a lullaby as it fell on the quarterdeck above. 

They were too tired to talk, and sat wordlessly on opposite sides of the bed. Korra had just managed to get out of her boots, when she heard Asami groan in pain.

“Captain?” Korra turned worriedly. Sato was holding her ribs.

“I’m fine, Korra.” Asami’s assertion would have been more convincing had she not winced.

Although too drained to rally fully, Korra’s concern did give her at least enough energy to slog over to Asami and insist on seeing the side, which the Captain was still grasping.

Asami resisted for a moment, before thinking that she also needed to know how badly she was hurt. She hoisted her nightshirt, which she had to untuck from her breeches, and examined the bruises. Korra knelt in front of her.

Instinctively, Korra’s finger went to the wound.

Asami flinched, then inwardly chastised herself for being silly. After all, she and Korra had just repeatedly crashed into each on the deck. They had, at times, been literally thrown on top of one another—probably the cause of her angry reddish-purple mark. This single point of contact was surely less of a violation of her personal space than that?

“I’m sorry,” Korra apologized. “My hands must be cold?”

Asami shook her head. “I think…I think I just expected that to hurt more than it did.”

“It still must hurt. I’ll make you a seaweed wrap for it.” Korra trudged away before Sato could protest.

Her departure gave Asami a chance to find a dry nightshirt. She was putting it on, with some difficulty, when Korra returned.

Korra pondered this, and then issued instructions: “Lie down on the bed.”

She moved the covers back to allow Asami to slip under them, then considerately pulled them up to her waist.

For her part, Sato ruminated on how she was allowing herself to take orders from one of her own sailors. She knew it was a sign of how sore she was, how fuzzy the fatigue had made her, and how grateful she was to Korra that she was allowing it to continue.

Korra lifted up Asami’s nightshirt just enough to show the bruise.

“This,” she informed her, “is a seaweed mix that will remove some of the swelling and pain. Old Water Tribe remedy.”

Asami felt Korra gently applying the compound, but that was the last thing she sensed before she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the risk of sounding repetitious, thank you for the kudos, comments, and feedback. I keep mentioning this, because you cannot understand how much they mean to me. 
> 
> Not much of historical note in this chapter, except maybe to point out that boxing in opponents was one of two preferred naval tactics at the time. It was called doubling. (The other was to line things up so your broadside, where the cannons were, faced the enemy's bow or stern, where they wouldn't have any guns. This was called crossing the T.) 
> 
> There are a couple parallels to the TV series here, though. Obviously, it's Unalaq and Vaatu joining forces vs. the Avatar, and Mako braving lightning in an enclosed space, ending up with a wounded arm? I know I'm jumping ahead to season 4, but that's an homage to what he did to help defeat Kuvira. I hope you think I am weaving in these types of moments fairly seamlessly. 
> 
> Finally, seaweed does have medicinal properties, so--despite what Korra says--that's not just a Southern Water Tribe thing. That's something you see today. ;)


	7. Time and Punishment

They both napped for several hours. It was just enough, although it didn’t replenish them completely. 

Now more clear-eyed, Sato knew she must deal with her disobedient crew members. She had Korra summon Mako, and then sat behind her desk to gather herself.

She straightened the buttons on her jacket as she waited, and pulled at her waistcoat when they entered the cabin, Mako with his arm in a sling.

“First,” she said, “let me thank you. You both risked your lives, and your actions helped save the _Avatar_.”

Korra responded with, “You’re welcome.”

Mako, who saw where this was going, merely nodded.

“Second,” Asami added, gripping her bruised side, “you’re both on bread and water for a week.”

Korra’s incredulity was obvious even before she put her protest into words. Mako merely nodded again, so he was dismissed.

Now feeling the need to emphasize her authority, Asami stood to her full, considerable height. It didn’t stop Korra from arguing.

“But one week of bread and water is what you gave the guy who didn’t see the _Equalist_ , because he was cheating at gunnery practice!”

“You disobeyed a direct order, Korra.”

“And saved the ship!”

Asami walked out from behind her desk. “That’s why you’re only getting a week.”

Korra’s mouth opened and closed several times with no discernible sound coming from it. In that silence, Sato was able to continue her explanation.

“I cannot have people deciding for themselves what’s best for us. That’s my job. And, Korra? As your captain?” Here she quieted. “I appreciate your willingness to stand up to me.”

Having had her expectations so thoroughly upended for the second time in the course of just minutes, Korra was unsure how to answer.

“You…you do?”

“Well,” Asami chuckled. “I’d appreciate it more if you were willing to accept the consequences that came with it.”

Korra found herself wishing she had handled this situation like Mako, and said so.

“Oh, no,” Asami countered. “He’s never been the most in-touch-with-his-feelings guy. I’m glad you’re not afraid to act on your emotions.” She laughed brightly, adding, “To an extent.”

“Is that why you two didn’t work out?” wondered Korra.

This was an area where Asami wished Korra was perhaps a little more reserved, but there was no harm in giving her an answer. “Yeah, I guess I need someone who is a little more open.”

She was hungry, but dinner wasn’t anything to look forward to with her new diet restrictions, so Korra dove into her work for the day. There was plenty to do with all the repairs that were necessary after the storm.

After that, she downed her bread and water hungrily, because—as bland of a meal as it was—she was still starving. On her way out of the mess hall, she took a second glance at her captain, only then realizing hers was the same flavorless meal as Korra’s.

She contemplated this and many other things, as she went to the bow and watched the sun start to go down behind the horizon. Although deep in thought, she was aware when Asami approached.

“I brought you some tea,” she offered.

“You’re so sweet,” returned Korra, “but that’s not bread or water.”

Smiling, Asami volunteered that she wouldn’t be informing the captain, and it made both of them laugh.

The moment of lightness passed quickly. They returned to serious topics in short order, because Korra wanted to know why Sato had also been eating bread and water. Asami explained it was her punishment for being wrong about needing Korra and Mako the night before.

This resulted in a heavy sigh. “You didn’t need me,” Korra lamented. “Any sailor could have done what I did.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Asami assured her. “Yes, you’re a great swordswoman, but you’re more than that. Your abilities? They’re a part of who you are. They’re not who you are. Who you are is someone who will go charging after another ship’s captain, stand up to your _own_ captain, and brave a storm that could have ended you.”

Korra harrumphed. “I guess it’s a good thing you taught me a little something about being at the helm.”

“I won’t be teaching you anything else for a while!” Asami threw her hands up, as if in surrender. “No need to tempt fate. I want the next few days to go smoothly!”

She got her wish…mostly.

The cook decided to bake some nut cakes, and undercooked the center of them. As a result, a number of sailors got sick. Since they weren’t eating sweets, that number did not, of course, include Korra, Asami, and Mako, so they all tried to pitch in a bit more than usual.

However, Mako and Asami were still nursing their wounds, so it was Korra’s workload that picked up most significantly in the final days before they arrived at their destination of Zaofu, a neutral port city that—rather than risk the flow of goods and services through their town—had studiously avoiding taking sides between Republic City and the Earth Kingdom.

And the next time the cook made the nut cakes, he simply removed the middles to avoid anybody falling ill. Those were tasty enough, the crew agreed, that they wanted more of them, but they were still angry enough they also wanted someone else to be the one to bake them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is a really short chapter, so I might post another tonight as a thank you to all those continuing to pass along such kind thoughts. 
> 
> This chapter does contain my favorite historical note of the entire work: The story about a sea cook undercooking his nut cakes, and having to cut out the doughy middles as a result? That's one of several apocryphal stories regarding the origin of the donut! (It also means the Avatar will be needing a new cook soon...)
> 
> There are a couple references to the LOK television series here as well. Asami did use the phrase "He’s never been the most in-touch-with-his-feelings guy," regarding Mako. It was when she was giving Korra driving lessons. And you probably already caught that Asami bringing Korra tea, and Korra responding, "You're so sweet," is in honor of the famous meditation pavilion scene. 
> 
> Thanks, as always! More soon.


	8. Zaofu

“Bo! Bolin, slow up!!! You don’t want to be out of breath when you see your girlfriend.”

Bolin stopped in the middle of a bustling street paved in stone, and—as if to make Korra’s point—put his hands on his knees, sucking in big gulps of air.

Korra was trailing him, but not because she couldn’t keep up. In fact, she wasn’t winded at all. She simply did not know her way around Zaofu. She’d actually been following Bolin around all morning, because she hadn’t realized that “Do you want to meet Opal?” meant eating breakfast, stopping for a haircut, and visiting a shop to buy flowers.

Had she known that, Korra might have volunteered to be part of the group escorting the _Equalists’_ prisoners to Varrick instead.

However, with preparations out of the way, here she was just a block away, Bolin assured her, from the Red Lotus.

“Do I look all right?” he asked, running his fingers through his freshly coiffed, black hair. “I mean, I know I look all right, but do I look…I don’t know? Incredible?”

He struck a pose that one might expect from a monologuing actor at a playhouse. As he gave Korra a chance to examine him, he smiled, but it was a nervous grin.

“You, look great, Bo,” Korra assured him, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Bolin didn’t let go, and towed Korra roughly behind him. When they got to the front door of the Red Lotus, Korra tried to tell him he should leave her outside, but in his haste, he rushed headlong, dragging her in the front door and down the stairs.

Surveying the landscape, he quickly recognized his mistake.

“Oh, err…I am so sorry!” he stammered, blushing.

She didn’t want to make him feel bad. Neither did she want to come across as a naïve girl from the Tundra, so Korra tried to play it off. “Oh, please!” she dismissed. Every time he wasn’t looking directly at her, though, she couldn’t hide that she was agog.

“I’m going to get Ming-Hua,” Bolin stated. He had already explained to Korra that she was the owner, the woman who held Opal’s contract. It was Asami, during one of their late-night talks, who had informed her of the rest of the story: Opal was an indentured servant, having traded years of labor in exchange for helping her family to flee the oppressive Earth Kingdom. Exactly what the nature of that labor was, Korra didn’t have the heart to ask.

Bolin scampered away, and Korra stood there for a moment, plotting an exit. She barely registered that a woman had come up to her, until that woman whistled appreciatively.

“Mmm…What muscles,” she complimented. Korra’s doublet had sleeves, but they were tight enough that the definition of her biceps was visible.

“Thanks?” was all Korra could muster. 

The woman began rubbing Korra’s arm. “Something I can do for you, sweetie?”

Korra shook her head. “I’m here with my friend.”

Practically purring, the woman volunteered that didn’t mean she couldn’t help. It would just cost a little extra.

At this point, Korra abandoned all want of a strategic departure. Any escape would do, so she simply excused herself, retreating two stairs at a time.

Once out the door, she almost collided with Asami.

_Of all people._

Sato’s first words did not relieve Korra at all, either. “I thought I’d find you here!”

“What? Me? Here?” Korra thumbed back toward the Red Lotus. “Here?” she asked lamely again.

“Yes?” Asami couldn’t understand Korra’s reaction.

This only made Korra feel like she should clarify. “I was just inside to help purchase a girl.”

Then to herself: _That is quite possibly the worst thing you could have said, and why is it you can’t talk all of a sudden?_

“Korra,” laughed Asami, “Bolin can’t keep a secret, not even his own. I know why you’re at the Red Lotus. That’s also why I bought you this.”

She handed over a doublet, which Korra had not realized she had been holding until now. Not only was it the perfect blue, but it was a lighter fabric than the one she had on, and sleeveless.

“Bolin told me you were going to buy one for warmer days.”

Korra wished she could have changed into it now. Her face, especially, felt warm.

She silently examined the gift, so Asami continued speaking.

“I thought about getting you a knife, but—should you need one—you can always just borrow the one my father gave me again.”

She was still caught in the admiration of her present, so Korra absently muttered, “Your father?”

“Yes, Admiral Hiroshi.”

This snapped Korra out of her reverie. “Your dad is Admiral Hiroshi?”

Korra’s surprise was a shock to Sato, as she had thought this was common knowledge. “I think that’s why King Wu put me in charge of the _Avatar_. He guessed I’d have the same skills as my Dad, but not be so set in my ways. It also meant that Dad could take over the _HMS Future_.”

Sinking her upper teeth into her lower lip, Korra chewed on this fact. “I just need some time to digest this,” she said.

“Sure. You know, if I’d realized it was such a big deal…and that you didn’t know, I would have told you before now.”

“I know,” Korra assured her.

She still had yet to receive a thank you, but Asami remained outwardly unperturbed by any potential lack of gratitude on Korra’s part. In fact, Sato ended up changing the subject.

“Speaking of digest,” she said, “what do you think about lunch?”

“It’s my favorite meal of the day.”

“Really?”

“Well, that and breakfast and dinner.”

That wasn’t exactly news. Asami had never seen Korra leave something on her plate, so she recommended someplace she knew that served some very delicious dumplings.

Their walk there was comfortably quiet, and only after they had placed their orders did they pick up their conversation. While the streets outside were busy, this place was not, leading Korra to believe that Asami had somehow stumbled on this hidden gem of a pub on a previous visit to Zaofu. Sitting on opposite sides of a long, otherwise vacant, wooden table, Sato apologized again.

“I didn’t mean to startle you outside the Red Lotus.”

“It’s all right,” Korra said. “I just didn’t want you to misunderstand. I mean, I would never pay a woman for sex.”

She noticed that Asami rested her elbows on the table to hide a smirk behind folded hands.

Korra hadn’t said anything embarrassing, though. Of this, she was sure. She was being extra careful since her tongue had tumbled tail over teakettle in front of the Red Lotus. She hadn’t even said something that could be misconstrued, like she sometimes (okay, oftentimes) had the habit of doing in discussions with Asami. The mystery of that smile laid in what she _hadn’t_ said, namely that she would never have sex with a woman, period.

“Spirits,” Korra mumbled. She placed her arms on the table in front of her and then dropped her head to them. She wasn’t ashamed, not at all. She only worried this would complicate things.

Asami waited until the other woman was looking up at her again. “It’s all right, Korra,” she said, extending a hand across and resting it where Korra’s forehead had just been. “Personally? I think, so long as nobody gets hurt, people should be able to do whatever makes them happy; and assuming two consenting adults, whomever makes them happy.”

 _Whomever?_ Of course. As if Korra had, had any reason to doubt Asami would put her at ease, share her heartfelt thoughts succinctly, and—on top of it all—do so in grammatically correct fashion. Korra voiced none of this, however.

“That seems like a good philosophy,” she simply said quietly.

“And I’m sorry if it seemed like I was going to laugh,” Asami continued, “but it’s a little funny to me that you only accidentally confessed to something with which I so totally agree, especially since you’re so open and honest the rest of the time.” 

Korra was absolutely downcast hearing that. “Asami,” she said, “there’s something I really need to talk to you about.”

Sato flinched. Remarkably, it was not because it seemed like Korra was about to unveil a secret. Whatever she had deemed necessary to keep private up until now, Asami was confident that it was nothing that would change her opinion of her. “That’s…that’s just the second time you’ve used my name,” she said.

“Oh? When was the other time?”

“On the deck of the _Avatar_ , the night of the storm.”

“I shouldn’t have done that then, or now, should I?” Korra asked.

“It’s okay. I rather like it,” Asami admitted softly. “Just not in front of the others?”

As if summoned by the very mention of him, Bolin bounded into the room right at that moment, and he wasn’t alone.

“There you are!” he exclaimed.

He had his arm around the waist of a waif of a young woman with short black hair and olive- green eyes. In one hand she was holding the flowers Bolin had purchased for her. She extended the other for a shake.

“You must be Korra?” she asked, correctly identifying the woman who had helped make this introduction possible. “I’m Opal. Bolin says I have you to thank for me being here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Korra offered.

Turning her attention to Asami, Opal took her hand as well. “And you’re the captain of the boat?”

“I’m the _ship’s_ captain, yes.”

Opal apparently missed the emphasis, because she responded by asking if it would be possible to see the “boat” sometime.

Genuinely unperturbed that a second correction was necessary, Asami kindly prodded by subtly emphasizing the proper name again. “Of course. The _ship_ will be in port for a few more days, and you can come visit whenever you’d like.”

“Oh, let’s go now!” Opal encouraged Bolin.

Asami and Korra smiled at each other. They could see already see why Opal and Bolin were suited for one another.

“I’ve just got to reserve a room, and then we can head back.” Bolin promised.

“Oh, that’s right.” A thought struck Asami. “Korra, a lot of the sailors like to spend their time in port on land. Of course, their other option is a hammock, and you share the captain’s quarters, but if you want a break from the _Avatar_ , you better rent a room now. The best ones fill up quickly.”

Korra investigated her captain’s expression to see if she could gauge her preference.

Sato read that correctly. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to remain on board. It wouldn’t bother me at all.”

Although hoping for more than simply avoiding being a bother, this was enough of an assurance for Korra, and she announced her intention to sleep on the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've stuck with this story this long? A huge, huge thank you. And if you've not only read up to this point, but left feedback of some sort? I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it!
> 
> Only one note on this chapter. Sailors can be very particular about the difference between ship and boats. As a United States navy captain once explained it to me: Ships carry boats.
> 
> Well, I guess one more very minor observation. Describing Bolin as striking a pose like a monologuing playhouse actor is meant as a nod to his career in the movers. 
> 
> As always, especially if you're perusing end notes, know you have my gratitude.


	9. Why You Fight

Before she went to bed that night, Korra insisted on writing and mailing a letter, saying it was important it arrive as soon as possible. She knew the _Avatar_ was planning to make at least one more stop in Zaofu before returning to Republic City, so doing this now would allow her to receive correspondence as well.

It was the only errand either woman really had to attend to that evening, although Asami did make some entries into a log regarding the money she had received from Varrick.

She explained to Korra how it worked. Asami would hand over her prisoners each time the _Avatar_ put into port. He was generally duplicitous, but Sato trusted Varrick not to hurt them, because that would put his profit at risk. (Also, not afraid to work both sides, he would house Republic City sailors captured by the Earth Kingdom as well, and they never complained about mistreatment.)

After ransoming her prisoners to their home country, Varrick would compensate the Captain the next time he saw her for her role in the exchange.

“You know some interesting people,” Korra laughed, as Asami turned down the oil lamp next to the bed until it emitted just a faint halo of light. 

“That,” Asami agreed, “feels like an understatement.”

“Well, goodnight, Asami.”

Sato’s breath hitched. “I’m still not used to hearing that,” she admitted.

Rolling over on her side, Korra could still see Asami, or at least the outline of her. The Captain appeared to be examining the roof of the cabin, one hand beneath her head, the other resting across her waist. Her black hair was tousled to the far side of the bed. 

“What did Mako call you when you dated?” Korra wondered.

“Oh, um,” Sato sputtered. “Honestly? It was mostly ‘Captain.’”

Not knowing whether to laugh, or be horrified, Korra could only choke out a one-word response. “Really?”

Asami felt like if she didn’t explain, Korra would keep asking questions. On some level, she also wanted to put it into words to be able to understand it herself.

“Mako is strong and makes you feel safe. He’s very, very good looking. He really is a good man, even if he doesn’t realize it himself,” she said.

“And isn’t willing to share it,” Korra harrumphed.

Asami laughed. “It almost sounds like you’ve dated him.”

“Maybe in another life. I’m just going off of what you told me.”

Sato removed the hand from beneath her head, interlacing and flexing her fingers over her stomach. This part, she wasn’t sure she wanted to vocalize. There was a pause before she spoke so lowly, Korra strained to hear her.

“I think that if I was actually in love with him, I wouldn’t have dated him.”

Korra’s eyes had now adjusted to the light enough that she could read the struggle in Asami’s face. It was a distress that, had she known it was visible, Sato would have made greater effort to conceal.

This inspired Korra to want to reach out to put a comforting hand on Asami’s arm, but she reconsidered that gesture halfway. The movement jostled the bed ever so slightly. Still, Sato did not turn her head.

It finally occurred to Korra that Asami desired to share, so the best thing she could do for her was to create the space for that to happen.

“You’re going to have to explain that to me,” she pressed.

Asami gathered herself. “As the captain, I can’t let anyone become _too_ special. If I play favorites, if I can’t dole out discipline, if I can’t focus…” She took a deep breath and let it out. “That’s dangerous.”

Deliberate Korra was now gone. She was struck on a gut level by what Asami had said, and instantly responded. “That doesn’t make sense! That doesn’t make any sense at all!!! Caring about someone isn’t dangerous. Caring…it’s…” Words started to fail her at this point, but she looked at Sato and rallied. “It’s not a distraction from the fight. It’s the very thing you fight for.”

“Maybe,” Asami granted. As dismissive as the answer may have sounded, she was seriously deliberating that line of thought. After all, this was Korra saying she fought for the people she loved, and Korra was the greatest fighter she knew.

The new doublet got its first wear the next morning. It fit as perfectly as it looked.

“I’m loving the outfit!” Asami enthused on noticing it, when Korra arrived on deck…even later than her usual appearance after the second bell.

“I never really thanked you for it, did I?” she asked ashamedly, blushing as she did so.

Sato shook her head. “Not in words, no. I was a little worried you didn’t like it.”

She was able to say this glibly, but this was almost as much a reminder to Korra of the deep well of Asami’s emotions as her obvious torment from the night before. Not once had she expressed any fear regarding Korra’s possible ingratitude. She had kept it to herself.

“You’re one to talk about Mako,” Korra observed. “You should have told me before now that I was being a jerk! You could have at least asked if I liked it. I do, by the way. Very much.”

Asami once again reprimanded herself for allowing Korra to ignore her position so cavalierly. She was showing her no deference whatsoever. However, she couldn’t help but laugh at the remark.

“Mako is not in touch with his feelings, and he tries to bury them. I may keep my own counsel, but I know what’s in my heart,” she pointed out. _Much as I sometimes wish I didn’t_ , she added to herself.

Korra also seemed reflective. “I might trade positions with you,” she admitted. “I never seem to know what I’m feeling.”

“And yet that doesn’t stop you from feeling it,” retorted Asami. “Maybe this is why Bolin is the only one of us who seems content and has someone special? He understands his emotions _and_ shares them?”

Korra didn’t know whether Sato had caught a glimpse of Bolin traveling up the gangplank, or whether Bolin had all of a sudden developed an uncanny knack for showing up when talked about, but he arrived once again at that moment. Opal was still with him.

“Good morning!” he greeted. “I heard we need a new cook. Well, it just so happens that Opal knows of one!” 

“And,” Opal jumped in, directing her comments toward Asami, “Bolin told me you might be willing to give me a captain’s tour of the boat!”

“Ship,” both Korra and Asami interjected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been listening to your comments, and so I have included a little more interaction between Korra and Asami here, and I am attempting to do a little bit better job with world-building. 
> 
> In other words, thanks again for all of you who have taken time to pass their thoughts along!
> 
> You will notice more nods to the LOK series. For instance, Varrick is totally willing to work both sides in a conflict. Asami did, at one point in season one, tell Mako she made her feel safe. "I'm loving the doublet," is a reworking of Korra and Asami's conversation when they reunited after their three-year absence...complete with blush. 
> 
> Oh, and Korra saying that Asami should have told her she was being a jerk? What I had in mind there was the Korrasami proposal the voice actors once performed on stage. (Janet Varney as Korra: "Also, you have to promise to tell me when I'm being a jerk...and you're never a jerk, so don't ask me.")
> 
> I've got few things mapped out for the future that I really hope you'll like. Maybe Opal will even learn the difference between a ship and a boat before she ends up peeling potatoes herself. However, I'm already more than grateful that you've read this far.


	10. The Avatar and Balance

Beyond welcoming the new cook, an older, blind woman named Toph, the next few days passed languidly, and yet somehow all too quickly. With the pace of their responsibilities slowed down, Korra and Asami got to spend more time together and got to know each other better—to an extent. 

Korra continued to use half-truths to hide from Asami, and Asami? She had started to do the same.

They felt closer, though, which is why at one point, Korra thanked Sato for being such a good friend. For the same reason, Asami’s smile seemed a little sad as she absorbed the compliment.

Such was the state of affairs that Mako sensed it when he saw the women together. “What’s going on with you two?” he asked.

“I think we got used to being the only ones on board,” laughed Asami.

Mako merely raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t planning on taking on the entire Earth Kingdom by yourselves, though?”

Elbowing Korra in the ribs, Asami laughed again. “Well, Korra here could probably handle _Avatar_ duties all on her own.”

“Deal with it,” Korra played along.

Mako looked from captain to swordswoman, and back. He ran his hand through his hair, stalling in order to give him time for rumination.

Sato filled the space with another thought.

“I take it you’ve spoken to Bolin?”

“Yeah. I hear he’s asked if Opal can join us,” Mako replied.

“And I’ve said yes,” Asami informed him. “We cleared out a space near the galley for her and the new cook to use as their quarters.”

“You realize this is going to make Bolin even more insufferable than normal?” sighed Mako.

“Good thing the Captain bought more than the usual allotment of potatoes for this leg of the journey,” Korra responded, being careful to avoid the use of Sato’s given name.

Mako shook his head. “And to think,” he rued, “I thought joining the _Avatar_ would keep Bolin _out_ of trouble.”

They put out to sea around mid-morning, and it was a beautiful morning. There was a cool breeze and a few puffy white clouds. The water was calm. The cries of the porpoise gulls flying overhead, which usually had all the melody of a toddler striking piano keys, even seemed more harmonious than usual. 

That all meant visibility was high. Asami didn’t need her spyglass to spot a Republic City merchant vessel not long after leaving Zaofu. It wasn’t a surprise, encountering another ship that close to land. What did surprise her was how many questions Korra had about it.

“Are we going to do anything?” she first asked.

“Do?” responded a confused Sato. “They’re speeding away from us. I’m sure they’re heading into port themselves.”

“Yeah, but that means they probably have a lot of cargo on board?”

“They…probably do? They don’t need our help with it.”

Korra’s deluge of questions continued apace. “You would help them, though, if they needed it?”

“Of course. I mean, they have their mission, and we have ours—as loosely defined as it is—but naturally we would help out. We might even help an Earth Kingdom ship, if it was clearly was in distress.” Asami finally stopped Korra with a question of her own. Squaring herself up with Korra, she wondered, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“I’ve just never been a privateer before,” Korra said. “I wasn’t sure what all it entailed.”

Then she excused herself with a considerable amount of haste. 

It struck Sato as a strange exchange, but she didn’t give too much thought to it. She was a little on edge for another reason: It wasn’t just Republic City ships in these waters.

Korra passed Mako as she dashed off, causing the first mate to look back over his shoulder at her as she went.

“What was that about?” he asked Asami.

“No idea,” she shrugged.

Like his captain, Mako had more pressing things on his mind. “Worried about Zaheer?” It was rhetorical. He knew it was on both their minds.

“This is the perfect hunting ground for him,” Sato acknowledged. “And there are rumblings he’s in this area.”

They looked out over the waters for a threat they were still a way away from facing.

By lunchtime, Asami had allowed herself to breathe, and she found Korra to be less preoccupied, so she suggested they eat together.

They hadn’t always been in a habit of sharing lunch before their visit to Zaofu, but spending so much time together the past few days was proving to be a hard habit to break.

Korra hesitated before taking her first bite, preferring to let Sato be the one to test Toph’s cooking. It wasn’t a particularly clever maneuver. At least Asami saw right through it, and she laughed. Korra, realizing she had been caught, replied with a crooked grin of her own.

Asami very deliberately lifted a fork to her mouth. She closed her lips around the food, and then closed her eyes. “Mmmm,” she hummed.

“I guess it’s edible, huh?” Korra joked.

“It’s awful,” Asami responded, causing Korra to tilt her head to the side with curiosity. “I don’t think you want any of this,” Asami continued, and with that, tried to steal from Korra’s plate. Korra slapped her hand away.

Now they were both laughing, and the laughter created a bubble in which only the two of them existed. The entire rest of their conversation took place inside that artificial space they had created for themselves. 

It started with Asami saying she was sorry for being so distant that morning. “You had a lot of questions,” she noted, “and I wasn’t really focused on answering them.”

Korra could have kicked herself. She had made the Captain’s life difficult, and it was the _Captain_ who felt guilty about it. 

“What was on your mind?” Korra asked.

“Being this close to shore is dangerous,” Asami explained. “Naturally there are a lot of ships in an area like this, and not all of them friendly. I was especially worried about Zaheer.”

Korra continued to eat, agreeing with Asami’s earlier assessment that Toph was very good at her job. Rather than pause from enjoying her meal, she nodded for Asami to go on. Hearing from her, after all, was the one thing she was more interested in than the food.

“Zaheer hates the navy. Never leaves a sailor alive when he captures a navy ship. He thinks it’s oppressive, so he prefers the freedom of piracy.”

“He must love us then,” Korra finally said between bites.

Asami shook her head. “Just the opposite. He hates us more than anyone.”

“But why?”

“The _Avatar_ represents balance.” Asami held out two hands, embodying a scale. “We sign the ship’s articles…” Here she raised one hand slightly. “But we do so of our own volition Nobody is pressed into service.” She raised the other.

“Anyone could have left the ship in Zaofu, and it wouldn’t have been desertion.” She dipped one hand. “However, we have a captain, a first mate, a hierarchy that must be obeyed.” The other followed. The visual no longer being necessary, she folded her hands in front of her, but still expanded on her thoughts.

“We share all our spoils equally, and if the crew decided together that they wanted to go to Ba Sing Se? Well, that wouldn’t be a mutiny; it would be our next destination. But the crew would never decide that, because, for all our freedom, we’re connected to a larger cause. We’re not only concerned with our rights, but also our responsibilities. We’re committed to king and country, and that drives Zaheer crazy.”

Korra swallowed hard, and Asami just assumed it was the result of a large bite.

“Korra, you jumped into a dark hole to fight Amon. You stayed on deck during a thunderstorm that almost carried us overboard. You have to promise me this: If we meet Zaheer, you will not fight him alone.”

“I can’t promise that!” Korra protested. “It’s like you said. We have responsibilities.”

Asami sighed heavily. “I was afraid of that.”

It was unusual for Korra to have company in the crow’s nest. It was even more unusual for Asami to be there. As much as she was known for doing all the work her crew did, the crow’s nest was still reserved for newer recruits, or those needing a punishment a step up from potato peeling.

She had reason for crowding into this space with Korra, though.

The wind had died down to almost nothing, and so—even with all sails raised—the _Avatar_ was at a virtual standstill. It was a dangerous spot to be in.

Asami found it equally precarious to be standing in a spot where she could not move without brushing against Korra’s arm.

“Are you really that alarmed?” Korra asked.

Startled from her reverie, Asami could only respond, “Sorry? What?”

“I asked how alarmed you are.”

“Very,” Sato replied simply, looking at Korra. She then shivered slightly. “It really is chilly up here, isn’t it?”

Korra started to speak, but Asami cut her off with a slightly devious smile.

“Korra, trust me. Don’t.”

“I…I wasn’t going to say anything embarrassing!” Korra stammered.

Sato waited a beat for Korra to finish sulking.

“You were totally going to say something embarrassing, weren’t you?” Asami asked.

“It only would have been weird if you made it weird!”

That was followed by another moment of silence, before Sato very quietly offered, “I appreciate it, though.”

Korra huffed a brusque, “You’re welcome.”

Hoping to make amends for calling her out, Asami nudged Korra with her shoulder, and Korra—making good on her unsaid offer to help warm her up—leaned in just a bit closer.

“I am really worried about where we’re at right now,” Asami confessed. “Smaller vessels don’t need as much of a breeze to keep moving, so if Zaheer finds us now, I won’t be able to position us to use the cannon, and we’ll have no choice but to fight hand-to-hand.”

“But the wind will surely pick up soon, right?” Korra inquired.

It would not. Not for three days.

Zaheer spotted them in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! All your comments and kudos have kept me going. 
> 
> Just two quick historical notes, because there's a lot of linkages between this chapter and the TV series to discuss. First, it's not often discussed, but pirates did a lot of intelligence gathering. Sometimes that would mean following their target. Other times, as here with Asami, it means having the crew ask around for information while on land. Second, it was once a wartime practice to force men to join the navy. This was called impressment, or pressing someone into service. 
> 
> Okay, now for nods to LOK: As on the show, Mako is one of the first to notice something is up with Asami and Korra, and asks, “What’s going on with you two?” I think most of you get the reference to Korra wanting others to "deal with" the fact that she can handle Avatar duties, which she does in season one. The Avatar representing balance and Zaheer resenting the Avatar is even more obvious, so I am only including it here in the notes for the sake of thoroughness. 
> 
> Just one final writer's note? The first couple times Asami walked up behind Korra, she snuck up on her. The next time, Korra knew someone was there, but not who. The third time she recognized Asami's presence even before she saw her. And now? When they're eating, she's in a world alone with Sato. Just a little detail to show their growing closeness that I thought you'd appreciate, if you didn't notice it already.
> 
> Thanks again. Your encouragement, comments, and kudos have meant the world to me! For those of you who are mothers, enjoy your day. For those of you with loving mothers? Give them a hug for me.


	11. The Confrontation with Zaheer

Sometimes the hardest part of a battle was waiting for it to start, and nowhere was that truer than on the high seas. Ships could only travel so fast. Ships carried along by a mere light breeze moved slower still.

That being the case, the _Avatar’s_ crew had plenty of time to prepare themselves, as well as to dread, Zaheer’s arrival. Korra could see him long before she crossed swords with him.

He was large and imposing, a simply dressed man with a shaved head, prominent scar above his left eye, and very square features. His crew was whooping their threats and insults. He, however, seemed to channel his entire essence into a cold, stony ruthlessness.

Whether it was intentional, or not, Zaheer’s stillness in the midst of the roiling movements of his sailors was more threatening and ominous than any gesture he could make.

Korra, meanwhile, would go from drumming her fingers along the hilt of her sword, to checking and rechecking for the presence of Hiroshi’s knife, which Asami had personally insist she carry with her, and which Korra had accepted only after assuring herself that Asami would be more than well-armed, even without it.

Once the assault got underway, there was little sense in throwing off the grappling hooks that Zaheer started using to pull the _Avatar_ in, but Asami ordered it done anyway, not as a stalling tactic, but as a way of annoying their attackers.

It appeared to work on his underlings, but Zaheer himself was eerily calm as he jumped onto the _Avatar’s_ deck. Korra raced right toward him, hoping to test that steely reserve.

In response, he brought down his sword…hard. Korra had anticipated this; she was prepared for it, and she parried that blow to the side. It gave her confidence, because now that they were engaged, she could counter his remarkable strength with her form.

However, Zaheer had enough form of his own that, after a few minutes of exchanging strikes, he was able to feint one direction, and then slice Korra’s arm by quickly assailing her from the other. It wasn’t a deep wound, so Korra was confused as to why Zaheer considered it enough of a victory to launch into a small speech.

“Why do you do this?” he growled as he circled her. “Fight for King Wu? Someone you have never met and cannot possibly care about? Loyalty to someone so undeserving is like putting yourself in chains.”

“For Raava’s sake, are you trying to bore me to death, or do you want to fight?” Korra fired back.

She was, in fact, capable of a more articulate response. Korra thought about telling him the blind loyalty Zaheer referred to bore no resemblance to the loyalty she possessed, which wasn’t totally oblivious, even if it wasn’t needlessly conditional.

She considered telling him the way he described freedom, the fewer people you loved, the freer you were, which wasn’t a kind of liberty she envied.

She even contemplated informing him that she _was_ fighting for people she cared about, and she could find it in her heart to care about almost everybody...although she was willing to make an exception for him.

She could have said any of these things, but didn’t, because somewhere she registered that even though they were no longer fighting, she wasn’t regathering her strength. Curiously, during a lull in their confrontation, she felt like she was still growing more fatigued.

Korra was at another disadvantage. While Zaheer possessed no tether to his crew, Korra was anxious about her friends, and occasionally made an effort to make sure they were okay, notwithstanding she was locked in battle with a formidable foe.

Raising her sword again, it felt heavier than before. Incredibly, Korra managed to roar back into things, putting Zaheer on his heels, until she stumbled for no discernible reason.

Fortunately, before Zaheer could take advantage of the fact she was down, Asami came at him with a low kick. She connected, and landed several other blows, before she was rewarded for it with a roundhouse to the stomach. Then Mako rushed Zaheer, but Zaheer was able to deflect his sword, and then pushed him off to the side like he was getting impatient with him. Bolin was similarly dispatched.

Manically focused on his one foe, he stalked angrily toward Korra, who was just able to get to her feet. She kept two hands on her sword and held it at waist level.

Korra blocked Zaheer’s first swing. The second? Instead of warding it off, she moved with it, gracefully turning on her heel and allowing the momentum of Zaheer’s offensive to carry him behind her, where he sprawled onto the deck.

Now Korra, along with a regrouped Asami, and Mako were all facing him. Bolin, the last to have been thrown aside, was finally able to collect himself, and presently joined them.

“No!” Zaheer snarled scrambling back up. He only now noticed that all his shipmates had been defeated, or were in the process of being beaten. “This is _not_ how it ends.”

In his ferocious rage, he did not notice what was behind him, and Opal, climbing up onto a crate, conked him in the head with a frying pan, knocking him silly.

“Get off our boat!” she shouted triumphantly.

This time, nobody corrected her.

Mako had secured Zaheer’s sword by stepping on it as it skittered away from him. Bolin moved forward with ropes they could use to subdue him.

Asami, meanwhile, examined a clearly woozy Korra. She noticed that her eyes were gauzy, her stance unsteady. After a moment of trying to recover, Korra pitched forward right into Sato’s arms.

Her vision blurred into nothingness as she heard the Captain yell her name.

Witnessing this prompted Mako to look down at the sword under his boot.

“Poison,” he said, seeing its mark on the blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty straightforward stuff here, but it is true that battles took a while to get underway in this era. For that reason, many fights were won on intimidation alone. And, yes, there was a lot of yelling and threatening and whatnot that took place in an effort to ramp up the intimidation factor. Pirates were huge trash talkers, you could say. 
> 
> And from the perspective of linking this story to the show: Zaheer lacking a tether to his crew giving him an advantage is meant to reflect how he gained the ability to fly after the death of P'li.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for sharing your kudos, your thoughts, your support.


	12. Moved

There was pain coursing through her entire body. She tried to grip the sheets she was laying on to cope with it, but for some reason, she couldn’t make it happen.

Korra peered down at her hand, which was being held in one of Asami’s own. Still trying to squeeze her fingers, she found they would not respond.

“Asami!” she whispered, distress obvious in her voice.

“I know. I know. Zaheer told us this would happen,” Sato comforted her. “It’s going to be a little while before you’re able to move again.”

“Zaheer?” a panicked Korra managed.

“He’s in the brig. You’re safe. I promise you, you’re safe.” Asami took her hand and laid it at the center of Korra’s chest, up by the collarbone. The weight of this kept Korra anchored to this moment, rather than flying back to a nightmarish memory. “Breathe, Korra. Just breathe.”

Korra closed her eyes and was able to do as instructed, evening out her breath with a tremendous effort.

While Korra did this, Asami reached into a bucket of cool water, and pulled out a clean cloth. She applied it to Korra’s forehead, wiping away beads of sweat that had pooled there.

“I’ve bandaged your arm, but I know you’re hurting,” she said in a tone that carried anguish of its own. “Zaheer told us that would happen, too, but it’s going to be all right. It’s only been two hours. You need time to heal. Just give yourself time.”

“What do you mean Zaheer told you that?” Korra’s throat felt dry, and she almost skipped over words as a result.

Sato astutely noted this, and went for a cup. She dipped it into the same bucket of water from before. Unable to lift her own head up, Asami had to place a hand beneath Korra’s shoulders and lift in order to enable her to take a drink.

“Zaheer gave us the remedy to the poison he struck you with,” the Captain informed her. He said your death wasn’t going to help him accomplish what he wants to accomplish, so he might as well save you.”

Korra naturally demanded to know how he could be believed.

Sitting down next to the bed again, Asami sighed. “After he told us,” she said slowly, “I cut him with his own sword to make sure he was telling us the truth. He was.”

She was staring at her hands. “If he hadn’t…” She allowed the thought to trail off. “Anyway, we’re eventually going to maroon him and his crew on an island near here,” she finally finished.

Able to turn her head, Korra looked at Sato. “Are you all right?” she asked. 

Sato’s eyes widened. “Am _I_ all right?” She struggled against a desire to chastise Korra for not focusing on her own recovery, ultimately deciding it would be hypocritical, given that her selflessness was something she most appreciated about her.

“I’m okay, Korra,” she said, ever so softly. “We all are. I mean, there were a few sailors injured, but they’ll all heal. That wouldn’t be the case without you.”

Having received this assurance, Korra turned her head the other way.

“They want to see you,” Asami continued.

Even without being able to look at her, Asami could guess the expression on Korra’s face.

“Please, no,” she pleaded. “Not right now. I don’t want them to see me like this…You’re…you’re the only one I want here right now.”

Sato took Korra’s hand again. “That’s fine. I’ll let them know you need your rest.” She didn’t show any inclination to leave to deliver the message, however. Instead, she continued talking. “It might be a little hard to convince Opal. She’s very excited. Now she wants someone to train her how to fight.”

“I can’t do it, for obvious reasons.” Korra responded, sullenly. She was so sullen, it was _almost_ impossible to tell that her next mumbled remark was the punchline. “I don’t know the first thing about fighting with cookware.”

Despite her pain, she was somehow able to fall asleep. Korra didn’t know how much later it was when she awoke, but when she did, she heard Asami and Mako speaking just outside the door.

When the door started to creak open, Korra closed her eyes and heard the Captain whisper, “She’s resting, but I still don’t want to leave her alone.”

Someone settled into the chair beside the bed, and to avoid having to interact with them, Korra kept her eyes closed.

“You wanna keep pretending you’re sleeping? That’s fine with me. I don’t know how I ended up your babysitter.”

She had only heard the voice a few times, but it was distinguishable enough that she recognized it instantly.

“Toph?”

“The Captain said you didn’t want to be seen in your current condition,” Toph harrumphed. “I guess this was her solution for that.”

Korra snorted. “Clever,” she grunted.

“Well, you didn’t expect her to take care of you all day, every day, did you?”

For the first time, it occurred to Korra that—whatever she had believed would happen—that is indeed what she had hoped would take place.

A tear trickled down her cheek. Still paralyzed by the poison, she was unable to wipe it away, but she consoled herself with the fact that at least the blind Toph wouldn’t know about it.

And yet…

“What are you crying about?” demanded the old woman.

“It’s…You’re right,” Korra sobbed. “I don’t deserve to have her look after me.”

“And what does it accomplish to whine about it?”

When Korra merely sniffled, instead of answering, Toph continued. “She’s probably no better than any other captain, anyway.”

Temporarily forgetting that she couldn’t move, Korra tried to sit up, an attempt that shot bolts of pain down her arms and legs. “That’s not true,” she finally seethed, more from discomfort than anger. “She’s an incredible captain!”

“Oh, and how many do you even know?” Toph challenged her.

Growing more and more frustrated, Korra could only snark, “Well, I fought one of them today.”

“I noticed that,” huffed Toph.

“And another one a while back who was a coward pretending to be from Republic City!”

Toph asked Korra to explain why she thought it was that Amon had done that, and Korra relayed what Mako told her.

“So in order to survive against a well-armed adversary, he flew a Republic City flag?” Toph clarified. She stroked her chin. “I heard about what happened to you next. You ran into two Earth Kingdom ships, and raced into a storm to evade them. If there hadn’t been a storm that night, are you sure your captain wouldn’t have also relied on deception to keep you alive?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” Korra was irked that she could not gesticulate with her arms. She looked at the woman who would not, could not look back. “When you put it that way, maybe; but Amon fought for the Earth Kingdom! They want complete power over people’s lives, and Asami’s not like that.”

“Oh, _Asami_ isn’t like that, is she?”

_Spirits! She noticed._

“No, the Captain is not.” Korra knew the correction wouldn’t cover for her mistake, but at least it allowed her to implicitly concede it was a mistake.

“I get it. _The Captain_ is more like Zaheer, who wants there to be no rules.”

“No! She’s not like that either!” Korra shook her head as vehemently as her current state allowed. “She loves rules so much, she won’t allow herself to love anyone else!”

Toph raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Must be hard, working for someone so cold and hard-hearted.”

Korra took a deep, shuddering breath to try to calm herself. Toph couldn’t have done a better job getting a rise out of her had she been trying to do so, and Korra was starting to believe that might be the case.

“You keep putting words in my mouth!” she complained. “The Captain, she’s…she’s not unfeeling. Maybe she feels too much? You know? Zaheer would kill every sailor on navy ships. She looked sick just thinking about the idea of executing him. That’s how she treats her enemies, so imagine how she treats her friends.”

For the first time, Toph struck a tone that sounded neither brash, nor sarcastic. “So is that why you joined the _Avatar_ , Korra? To fight for Asami Sato?”

“No,” Korra admitted, and at this point she needed to confess it, even if she couldn’t yet fully explain it. “I joined to save the legacy of the _Avatar_.”

“I see, Sneakypants.” 

“But it _is_ why I’m here now.”

And it was at that very moment that Korra ceased being someone who didn’t know, with a complete and absolute understanding, what she was feeling.

Toph stood up. About thirty seconds later, Korra understood why. Asami re-entered the cabin, looking apologetic.

“Korra, you’re awake,” she observed.

“Good. It’s about time. I need to go,” Toph said, excusing herself. “Have to go feed the crew, Asami…I mean, Captain.”

Sato merely gave the old woman a confused backward glance in response to the remark that Korra knew was actually meant for her.

“Do you know what I just recently learned about her?” Asami asked after Toph left. “This isn’t her first time aboard the ship. She was the _Avatar’s_ first cook, too.”

Sato looked at Korra and noticed the remnants of her tears from earlier. “I’m so very sorry,” she said fretfully. “I hope you don’t mind that I left her with you? The ship has been carried along by the current for days, and so we needed a course correction. I won’t leave you again.”

“Asami,” Korra pleaded. “Will you tell me about yourself?”

Sato resumed her seat at Korra’s side once more.

“What do you want to know?” she asked kindly.

Korra’s answer was simple and straightforward: “Everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always for your kudos and comments. In those times when I've found I really needed that encouragement, you have really delivered! 
> 
> No real historical research to share with you with this installment, but I hope you find these next few chapters ring true with Legend of Korra. For instance, Korra's insistence that she sees nobody, but Asami, while she's healing is meant to echo her only writing to Sato when she went home to recuperate. 
> 
> "It's only been two hours..." On the show, Asami says the same, after it's been two weeks.
> 
> Here, also, we have Toph playing Korra's personal Yoda, much as she does in the television series. It was important to me that she echo one of her lessons from the TV show: Korra's enemies aren't quite as different from her and her friends as she might be comfortable thinking. Of course, here she helps Korra makes another discovery, too. ;)
> 
> Sneakypants is the new Twinkletoes, and I am always grateful for your kindness.


	13. Getting to Know You

In the hours that followed, Korra learned that Asami’s mother had died when she was six, the victim of a pirate crew making a landfall attack on the rich estate of Hiroshi Sato. She’d been killed with a knife, which certainly put Hiroshi’s gift to his daughter into a different perspective.

Hiroshi sheltered his daughter after that, not in the sense that he shut her away from the world, rather he made sure any danger she faced was under his control.

He trained her to fight and taught her seamanship. He oversaw her rise from deckhand to first mate. She was always a member of his crew, until—of course—she became a captain herself. 

Asami wasn’t just following in her father’s footsteps, though. She discovered very early on that she was quite adept at it, and there were many ways in which her current position highlighted her best qualities. It brought out her loyalty, her boundless curiosity about the world around her, as well as her desire to make an impact.

Ironically, however, being good at everything meant that she was not very good at making friends. It intimidated some. It created a resentment in others. It made still more believe she was so self-sufficient, she didn’t actually need them.

Oh, she supposed it became a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, too. Knowing how many of her relationships were false-starts, she stopped trying, but in the end, it could almost be argued that her competency walled off as many people from Asami Sato as her wealth and privilege. While it may have indeed been the case that everyone who knew her respected her, nobody had bothered to get to know her well enough to like her.

She had never been in love. Until she had met Mako and Bolin, she had never even been particularly close to anyone, other than her father.

Korra found this ridiculous, and protested it with as much vehemence as she could, but by this point in the discussion, she was fairly well exhausted.

Sato had managed to stay focused on Korra, even as she was talking about herself, and when she saw that she needed rest, she told her to get some sleep.

It was so unfair, Korra realized as she drifted off. She’d been needy when she asked Asami to open up, and Asami—sensing that need—had done that, and more. However, Sato didn’t feel like she was in a position where _she_ could ask for anything, meaning Korra’s secrets remained secret.

Being able to start moving again was a mixed blessing for Korra. She was hot, so she wanted to kick off the blanket Asami had obviously pulled over her. Plus, she was so stiff, she desperately needed to stretch, but every little shift in position was miserable. It caused pain to dart down her limbs, and it made her feel vaguely nauseous. 

She tried to suppress a wounded cry, but it was still loud enough to wake Asami, who had apparently crawled into the bed at some point.

“Korra?” she asked blearily.

The only answer Korra gave was to screw her eyes tightly shut.

Not immediately getting an answer as to what Korra required, Asami quietly observed her for a moment. Finally, intuiting how she could help, she adjusted Korra’s pillow, she wiped Korra’s brow with a cloth, she pulled off the covers, and then started to massage sore muscles.

And Korra couldn’t protest, because Korra needed this. That almost hurt more than the physical pain. She wanted to be the one on whom people depended. She wanted to be the strong one.

“I’m sorry I’m so useless,” she whispered.

“You are many, many things, Korra,” Asami responded. “Useless is not one of them.”

“But I can’t do anything for myself right now!”

“And you think that makes you weak?” Sato countered.

With great effort, Korra was able to manage a shrug.

Asami took a moment to consider what she should say. She paused the massage of one of Korra’s calves, but let her hands rest where they were. “Korra,” she finally said. “Do you think that I see you as weak?”

“I think,” Korra answered, without looking Asami in the eye, “that you tend to give people a lot of credit.”

She waited to lift her sight until Sato restarted her ministrations. It looked like the Captain was fighting a smile.

“Is this helping?” Asami asked, when she noticed Korra watching her.

Korra nodded.

“Good. Because Bolin is holding a little celebration for Opal tomorrow. It’s a combination of welcoming her to the ship and honoring her deadly accuracy with kitchen utensils. I know it would mean the world to them if you would join them.”

Raising an eyebrow, Korra noted the wording. “Welcoming her to the…”

Asami cut her off. “I know! I know! But will you join them? For Opal?” 

Taking a deep breath to gather herself, Korra acceded. “Okay.”

When morning came, Korra was able to sit up on her own. The action left her dizzy and she was still very stiff, but the pain wasn’t quite so bad.

It was Asami who groaned when light began streaming through the window. “I don’t think I’ve been to sleep yet,” she mumbled into her pillow.

Korra felt guilty, because she suspected she’d been the cause of Sato’s restless night, but when the Captain asked her how she was feeling, she simply answered, “Better.”

It gave Asami enough confidence to briefly leave the room. She returned with some breakfast, which a weakened Korra had trouble feeding herself, so Sato intervened.

The fact that she couldn’t routinely get a spoonful of broth to her mouth without growing fatigued, or spilling all of it, made Korra question whether she really was up to seeing her friends that afternoon.

However, Asami carefully worked to restore Korra both physically and emotionally. She massaged her arms, shoulders, and legs again. She told her how happy Mako, Bolin, and Opal would be to know she was improving. She helped her clean up. She raved about how proud she was to have a swordswoman of her talent on board. She changed the bandage on Korra’s arm. She told a few jokes…or tried to do so. Despite being good at practically everything, and having a decent sense of humor, she was surprisingly bad at joke telling. She combed Korra’s hair.

It was when Asami was running her fingers through the soft, brown strands to check her work that there was a knock at the door. Before responding to it, Sato asked Korra in a low voice if it would be okay to do so.

Only after receiving Korra’s go-ahead did Asami call, “Who is it?”

Bolin peaked his head in. “It’s me and Opal, Captain…Oh, and Mako.”

It was murmured, but Korra could hear Mako grumbling, “So I get second billing now?”

“What is it, Bolin?” Asami asked.

“We were wondering,” he replied, “if we could have our little get together here? It just wouldn’t be the same without Korra.”

She had refused to even answer the door without Korra’s permission, so there was no way Asami was going to allow this type of intrusion without checking in with Korra first. However, she also didn’t want to put the injured woman in the position of looking like a killjoy.

“Why don’t you come back later?” suggested Asami.

Bolin gave a jaunty little salute that ended with a wave goodbye, and closed the door.

“Asami?” Korra broached.

“Mmm?”

“It’s okay.”

There were no mirrors aboard the Avatar (something that Korra thought made the fact that Asami always looked so stunning all the more remarkable), so Sato had to serve that role.

“You look...very, very nice,” she assured Korra, who nodded her thanks, failing to notice that Asami's compliment had been uncharacteristically understated. Asami may have been a reserved woman, but rarely stingy in her praise.

Then the captain went and retrieved their friends.

Out of courtesy, they didn’t meet long. Mako, Bolin, and Opal remarked on how good it was to see Korra up. They ate some sweets, and then Asami gave a brief speech, recognizing everyone’s contributions.

She applauded Mako’s steadfastness, Bolin’s heart, Opal’s skill with a skillet. She remarked on how poetic it was for a former indentured servant to help bring down a famous sea captain. Her greatest compliments, though, were reserved for Korra, who had risked her life again by taking on the enemy’s most dangerous fighter. She vaguely referenced Korra’s sacrifices, but didn’t mention that—in addition to the pain—she knew Korra had been having nightmares. She said that Korra set an example they would all try to live up to, and she only hoped they could serve the entire crew with as much selflessness.

It nearly made Korra cry, because she realized, unless she healed soon, she wouldn’t be able to help the next time the _Avatar_ was threatened...and maybe not even then.

The gathering ended with Korra telling a departing Opal that she would have to show her how to use a pan as a weapon. “Although, some would argue,” the swordswoman granted, “that’s exactly what you’d call it when I do the cooking.” 

Asami smiled a half smile. “You’re making jokes,” she observed when the trio left. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?”

“I told you earlier I was,” argued Korra.

“Yeah, but I want to know that I’m here for you,” Sato said, not finding Korra’s mood very convincing, “if you ever want to talk, or anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you haven't grown tired of hearing how grateful I am for every one of you who leaves a kudos. And for those who take the extra time to leave a comment, know that I take to heart everything that you so kindly share.
> 
> There is a historical note to make here: Yes, pirates did occasionally stage attacks on land. It simply was rare, because it was more dangerous than a battle at sea. (If you're a history nerd, like me, and want a rollicking good story of such an on-shore adventure, albeit not by a pirate, Google John Paul Jones and his raid on Whitehaven, England.)
> 
> As for comparisons to Legend of Korra? Asami's (I think, lonely) history somewhat reflects that of her character on TV. In the LOK television series, Asami encouraged a wounded Korra to allow herself to celebrate a special day for Jinora. She does something similar here with Opal. And not only does Opal's celebration mimic that of the ceremony where Jinora is made an airbending master, Asami's speech in many ways mirrors that of Tenzin. 
> 
> Finally, the words ending this chapter were, of course, famously embraced by Korrasami shippers when the show aired. 
> 
> Again, this is my first time sharing any fiction writing online, and I probably would have quit without all the valuable input I've received. I truly appreciate you, my friends.


	14. Stronger Than You Know

Owing to her not sleeping the night before, Asami crashed hard that evening, a fact of which Korra intended to take full advantage by slipping out.

She was just starting to be able to walk again, but if she needed to crawl, that’s what she would do to get the answer she needed.

The _Avatar_ had a space apart from the brig to hold a solo prisoner. It had value as an area to separate out someone who was being unruly, or to create the impression that maybe one prisoner was cooperating, or—in this case—to keep a captured captain from colluding with their crew to plot a breakout.

Korra made her way there, supporting herself most of the way by holding on to deck railing, or walls, or whatever else was available. It was not an easy journey, and it caused her no small amount of pain.

She almost reached the point where she didn’t think whatever she got from Zaheer would be worth it, but she persisted.

When she made it to the cell’s door, she looked through the tiny barred window, only to be surprised by Zaheer standing on the other side of it, as if he had been waiting.

“I thought I’d see you here,” he said, almost nonchalantly.

Having to hold onto the bars to stay upright, Korra asked how it was Zaheer seemed fine.

“The poison wasn’t in my system nearly as long as it was yours,” he explained. “Plus, I was able to meditate when I was cut by your captain. You were in the middle of battle. Your heart carried it though your entire body.” He readjusted his arms, the chains on his wrist having apparently grown heavy, a suggestion that maybe he wasn’t quite as formidable at this moment as he was trying to seem. “Now before you ask me what it is you came here to ask, I first want to know how you defeated me?”

“What makes you think I came here for anything from you?” Korra demanded. “Maybe I just wanted to see you locked up where you belong?”

Zaheer chuckled, and it came out as a low rumble. Sitting down on his small cot, he answered, “You’re still hurting. You wouldn’t have come here for something, unless it was important.”

“Yeah, well, clearly this was a mistake.”

Korra started to turn away, but she heard Zaheer call behind her.

“I’ll tell you why I let you live.”

“I know why you let me live!” Korra shouted back. “You don’t think I’m capable of anything! What difference do I matter in the grand scheme of things? You just thought it was more likely that the captain would keep you alive if you saved me.”

She heard Zaheer’s shackles rattle, and when she looked back at him, he was lying down.

“That’s not why,” he said. “But first?”

Korra sighed, knowing what was being demanded of her. “My father brought in masters from all four corners of the globe to teach me how to fight,” she explained. “Then it was decided that I needed to go to Republic City to learn from a master there. He not only taught a different fighting style, but taught me discipline and how to channel my inner strength.” 

“It would take a great deal of arrogance for anyone to think that they could instruct _you_ on how to channel your inner strength,” responded Zaheer.

Korra raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Zaheer sat up. He appeared to want to look her in the eyes when he said what he did next. “That poison should have killed you. That you were able to fight it off as long as you did says you are stronger than you know. That is why I let you live. As much as I despise the _Avatar_ , we have a common enemy in the tyrants of the Earth Kingdom.”

“Well, I think _all_ people deserve to live, no matter how strong they are,” Korra shot back. “So I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re on the same side now.”

“I’ve let sailors live before,” sneered Zaheer. “One of them, anyway, because I knew the HMS Future, the strong and proud flagship of the Republic City navy, was in the area to rescue him.” Despite his word choice, he made the description of the ship somehow sound like an insult.

Then he finished in a voice menacing for all its calm, “I spared him so that he could deliver my message to your king.”

Korra’s eyes widened as something clicked into place for her. “I know the sailor you’re talking about, Zaheer…and he didn’t deliver your message.” She turned, and—with difficulty—started walking away.

It wasn’t long before she was realizing her personal vow to crawl if need be, and then not long after that, that she encountered a pair of bare feet.

“Nice to see you again, Sneakypants.”

Korra looked up, but didn’t need to in order to know that she’d run into Toph. The cook reached down to help her, and when she was pulling Korra’s arm over her back, Korra thought about what Asami had told her regarding the old woman.

“You knew the first captain of the _Avatar_?” she asked.

“Enough to recognize his daughter when I don’t see her.”

Korra was too worried to react to the joke, or even to catch that it was a joke. “Are you going to tell the Captain?”

“None of my business,” Toph shrugged, and just in time, because the Captain herself showed up at that moment.

“Korra!” Asami called out. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” She took Korra’s other arm, and Toph relinquished her hold, transferring onto Sato all the weight that the swordswoman couldn’t support herself. Korra hadn’t fully appreciated until now how tall Asami was, or how strong, regardless of her slender frame.

“Thanks, Toph,” said Korra.

“Whatever,” she replied, but Korra could swear she felt Toph give her elbow a supportive squeeze before she departed.

Asami looked at Korra with a million questions in her eyes, but asked only one. “Back to the cabin?”

Korra nodded.

Without another word they worked their way to their quarters. For Korra, having Asami there to assist her meant that the walk back was much easier than the trek to see Zaheer had been. However, it was painful in an entirely new way.

This closeness that she and Asami shared was something she would have craved in very different circumstances. The fact that she and Sato experienced this proximity out of necessity made it just as much of a torment as a comfort.

However, she was so busy absorbing the warmth of Sato’s contact that Korra didn’t think about how the opposite was also true. Asami was experiencing her nearness as well, and the Captain was putting so much of her effort in trying to avoid letting it affect her, she hardly realized when they had made it to their room.

Sato reluctantly helped Korra remove her arm from her shoulders, and slowly lowered her down so that she was sitting on the bed in front of her.

“Are you all right?” Asami knew that Korra hadn’t merely visited the head. She’d brought in a chamber pot after Korra was hurt to spare her the need of traveling the length of the ship. “Is there anything I can do?”

Korra, seeking to put her at ease, assured her she was well.

Asami, however, knew this wasn't the case, so she sat down next to her to explain how. “You talk in your sleep, you know?”

“I…what?”

“Don’t worry,” Asami smiled gently. “You say much more embarrassing things when you’re awake. But I know that you’ve been having nightmares…about Zaheer.” 

Sighing, Korra admitted she had been to see him that night.

“So that’s why you left?” asked Asami.

Until Korra saw the concerned look on Asami’s face, she hadn’t fully comprehended just how much her sneaking out had frightened her.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I was just worried that…” Korra trailed off, gesturing vaguely with her hands to indicate a thought she wasn’t sure how to finish.

“I would try to talk you out of it?” Asami suggested.

“Yeah,” Korra agreed.

Asami conceded she would have at least volunteered to come with her. Then she inquired as to whether Korra got what she needed out of the face-to-face.

“I think so,” Korra answered. “So hopefully I won’t be having any more conversations with you in the middle of the night. I feel really bad about keeping you awake.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about that.” Asami said.

Korra’s face screwed up in thought. “What _do_ I need to feel bad about?”

“Well, when you’re having a nightmare, you do toss and turn a little.”

Imagining herself hitting Asami in the nose, Korra covered her face in shame. “Please,” she pleaded, “tell me I’ve kept my hands off you.”

Sato pinched the spot between her eyes, while fighting off a desire to laugh. “Korra, do you remember what I said about you saying the most embarrassing things when you’re awake?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a heartfelt thank you for reading, especially if you've made it clear to chapter 14. And special thanks if you've left a kudos. That means a lot. If you've gone a step farther, and commented? Wow! You're amazing. You've kept me going, and you really have helped shape my writing. 
> 
> So this chapter has a lot in common with the Legend of Korra scene in which our titular hero visits Zaheer in prison. I was hoping to capture some of the push-and-pull of that discussion. There's Zaheer recognizing both that Korra needs something from him, and him figuring out what that something is. There's Korra trying to back out of the conversation, only to be lured back in. There's also her vocalized anger that nobody thinks she's capable of anything. And, of course, there's the fact that Zaheer eventually helps her by sharing his shock that she survived the poison, and she thus comes away with what she needs. 
> 
> Toph recognizing Korra from someone in her past (her father, Tonraq) is meant to echo, well, Toph recognizing Korra from someone in her past (past incarnation, Aang). And, as I've said before, Sneakypants is the new Twinkletoes. 
> 
> Asami's desire to accompany Korra to wherever she needs to go for healing hopefully rings a bell for LOK viewers, too. 
> 
> There's not much of pirate lore to share here, but there is a research note: Yes, a ship's head is at the bow (as the name implies), and the captain's quarters are under the quarterdeck in the rear, so the Avatar's geography is correct as far as that goes. 
> 
> I haven't forgotten to thank you guys, have I? This was a heavy chapter to write, so you'll have to forgive me for ending it on the lighter side.


	15. Past is Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: There is a description of panic attacks in this chapter, in case that is something that would upset you.

Korra knew that exercise would be good for her, but she didn’t want her recuperation paraded in front of the other members of their crew. Therefore, she picked times when the deck was sparsely populated to take walks. Asami went with her, supporting her when necessary.

Sato also brought Korra her meals, assisted her when she changed her clothes, reminded her to breathe when she had a panic attack, and did numerous other little things she hoped would help, while still allowing Korra do as much for herself as she could.

Korra’s receptivity to such gestures varied. At first, they were welcome. Soon, though, they felt to Korra like an indictment of her slow progress, and she grew snippy with Asami whenever she lent a hand. Finally, patience and kindness won out, and Korra grew to appreciate how Sato could almost always intuit what she needed and never hesitated to provide it.

Thanks to such tender attentions, by the time they reached the mountainous island where they’d decided to maroon Zaheer, Korra was able to join the party that was marching the prisoners off the ship.

Everyone was armed. They were taking no risks. Everyone was alert.

As they took their first steps on the beach, Korra thought back to her conversation with Zaheer. He had spared her. Should she be grateful? His words had bolstered her flagging confidence. Did she owe him?

These thoughts were interrupted by another memory, that of her fight with the sea captain. In a flash, the almost-healed wound on her arm started stinging as if it was fresh. Desperate to hold on to something, her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword. She became dizzy. She couldn’t move. No, more than that. Somehow, she felt like she was sinking into the sand.

Asami whispered her name, and put her hand on her elbow. “You’re safe,” she said, speaking softly enough that the others couldn’t hear it. 

Korra had no idea how long she remained there in need of grounding. It could have been seconds or minutes. Things came back into focus one at a time: first a palm tree, then a shell, then the buzzing of a bumble fly, until she finally returned to the moment, standing on the beach of a mountainous island, where they were about to maroon the man who almost killed her.

“Thanks,” she whispered back to Sato.

Asami, trying to draw as little attention to the moment as possible, didn’t react to Korra’s expression of gratitude. She instead took a few steps forward to confront their captive, who had just turned around to face her.

“Well, Zaheer, you’re getting what you wanted,” said Sato. “Here you can start your own society with no rules and no hierarchy.”

Zaheer showed zero emotion as he responded, “No oppression, you mean.”

“No balance,” Korra countered.

Asami jumped in to prevent Zaheer from addressing Korra directly, and gestured to a crate that four of her crew were carrying nearby. “We’ve left you a few more supplies than a marooned party would usually receive, but you’re still going to have to work to make it last.”

He gave half a bow. It was impossible to tell if it was sincere, or mocking; but it was definitely the last thing he did before Asami wheeled around to leave him.

Korra, for some reason, couldn’t.

“’New growth cannot exist without first the destruction of the old.’” Zaheer told her. “That’s a quote from the wise guru Laghima. What you have done by defeating me is to allow for new growth.”

Shrugging, Korra replied, “’None of my business.’ That’s a quote from the wise ship’s cook Toph.”

With that, she walked away, not once looking back.

“No, no, Opal. That’s not a pan. That’s not how you...” Korra adjusted Opal’s grip on the sword. “Are you sure Bolin has been working with you?”

“We’ve tried to do some sparring,” Opal smiled.

“And he’s never taught you how to hold your weapon?”

Opal’s smile widened. “My weapon? No, not my weapon.”

Asami drew Opal’s attention by placing a hand on her shoulder. “What has he taught you about potato peeling?”

The grin didn’t fade, but Opal assured Sato she was taking her instruction seriously.

Asami had suggested these lessons, thinking it was a way of helping both teacher and pupil. So far, she had been right.

It had allowed Korra to feel like she was making a contribution again, but it marked an even more important milestone for Korra as well.

She finally felt like she’d reached the point where she wasn’t preventing Asami from doing her duties as captain. She knew Sato would have argued tending to Korra _was_ one of her duties, but this was different. Sato was back to making things happen, monitoring their course, steering the ship. She was even serving as a kind of assistant tutor for Opal’s classes.

Opal, however, wasn’t the only one learning from it.

It would have been impractical for Korra to have watched Asami while she had been battling Amon or Zaheer, so until she saw Sato helping Opal to train, she didn’t realize what a gifted fighter she truly was.

Spirits, there were so many things she hadn’t appreciated until recently.

Before now, for instance, she hadn’t really appreciated her own growth. There was so much evidence of it in her new role, though, it couldn’t be ignored. Korra was so much better as a teacher than she ever had been a student. She was surprisingly patient and not-so-surprisingly encouraging.

Even on mornings like this, where Opal was demonstrating a particular character trait of her own, a certain habit of pushing back on authority, Korra was developing Opal’s natural talent.

Opal deserved credit, too. On top of her innate ability, she wasn’t really resistant to teaching. What she possessed was a fairly restrained rebelliousness, a sort of cordial contrariness.

In it Korra saw something of herself. Plus, it gave Korra a challenge, soothing a fear that she would be given busywork for the sake of keeping her out of the way. Instead she was helping a crew member learn to defend herself.

“Now when you step forward, your foot should be…” Korra trailed off.

“Yes?” Opal prompted, trying to encourage Korra to complete the sentence.

However, there was a certain vacant expression that came over her that Asami instantly recognized.

“Opal, would you get us a cup of water, please?”

Not one to just do whatever she was told, Opal asked for an explanation, but Asami merely insisted again that she bring them water.

As soon as she left, Asami stepped in front of Korra, close enough to force her to gaze up into her green eyes. Then moving closer still, she pressed her forehead to that of the Southern Tribeswoman.

She never let on how worried she was that she would say or do the wrong thing when Korra was like this. Instead, she tried to project calm. “Korra, there’s nothing here that can hurt you. It’s just me,” she said. Then more softly, she repeated, “It’s just me.”

The first time she had seen this happen, Sato had been even more scared. She thought it was an effect of the poison, and worried it might kill her. To find out that it wasn’t only Korra’s body that had been poisoned was a temporary relief, followed by an entirely new set of complications.

“I…I can’t move,” Korra said.

“We don’t have to,” answered Asami. “We’re fine right here.”

After a couple minutes, during which Korra finally came back into herself, she reiterated her desire to leave. “Opal is going to be here any second,” she explained.

“Korra, I sent her away, because it’s your decision as to whether she sees you like this, or not,” Asami said, “but you should know, you don’t have to be embarrassed by what you’re feeling.”

Reversing their roles from earlier, Korra drew back just far enough that she now forced Asami’s gaze into her blue eyes. Then she challenged her with, “Would you want to be seen like this?”

“No,” Sato confessed. “But I’ve never been strong like you in that way.”

“Wh…what?”

“You’ve always had more courage when it comes to sharing all of yourself. I know, Korra, because you’ve made me braver.”

Korra tightened her grip on the fistful of jacket she hadn’t realized she had grabbed. “I don’t deserve that,” she whispered.

Before she could explain, Opal returned, announcing her presence with a loud, sing-song, “Whooooo’s thirsty?”

Asami tilted her head in Korra’s direction, indicating she was the intended recipient of the water. Opal offered it to her along with a question. “Are you all right? You really seemed to zone out before I left?”

With a quick look over at Sato, Korra decided she needed to earn her kind words from earlier. She decided to share.

“I’m okay. Thanks, Opal. I just sometimes have visions, nightmares about Zaheer hurting me…even when I’m awake.”

Asami couldn’t let that go without adding something slightly more positive. “I think maybe the move she was showing you reminded her of something that happened during their fight, because Korra has been doing much better lately.”

Surprising both women, Opal nodded her understanding. “I get it,” she said.

Korra blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah,” responded Opal. “As you may have guessed, my family isn’t exactly the type to go with the flow. It’s why we had to flee the Earth Kingdom. Before we did, though, we raised quite a fuss. My aunt was in quite a few scraps, and used to tell me that just because the fight has been decided, doesn’t mean the fight is over.”

She took the cup back from Korra, and offered the remnants of it to Asami. “Your aunt sounds smart,” Sato remarked, before taking a drink. “What do you think she’d recommend?”

Things didn’t look too hopeful when Opal shrugged. Then she made her own suggestion. “But if fighting like you did against Zaheer is upsetting, maybe don’t do that?”

It was lucky it was Asami who had the water at that moment, because Korra would have snorted the beverage through her nose. Sato, on the other hand, was thoughtful.

“That’s not a bad idea,” she observed.

“It’s not?” Korra responded incredulously.

“We could build back up to it. Maybe start with some hand-to-hand work, then use wooden swords, something like that.”

Korra liked Asami’s plan.

Opal did, too…for an entirely different reason.

“Maybe I’ll ask Bolin to work with me on some hand-to-hand training.”

Asami cleared her throat. “Just know if it gets in the way of your work, you’ll end up peeling potatoes right alongside him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're honoring the holiday today, I hope you are having a safe Memorial Day. Thank you so very much for whatever way you've chosen to interact with this story, whether that's reading, leaving kudos, or posting a comment. I am genuinely appreciative. 
> 
> So when a sailor was marooned, he was generally left with food, some water, and a loaded pistol. It was generally a death sentence, but not always. Edward England and his loyal crewmen, for instance, took four months to build a vessel that carried them away from the island of Mauritius, where they had been stranded. 
> 
> And what Opal and Asami stumbled on here is a crudely explained version of exposure therapy, which is indeed helpful for some patients with anxiety disorders. (If you're suffering an anxiety disorder, though, please don't take pointers from fan fiction. Consult a therapist to find the right course of treatment for you.) 
> 
> Finally, some callbacks to the Legend of Korra television series you probably caught: Here you find Korra training Opal, just like she did in the show. Zaheer quoting the wise guru Laghima, and Korra saying she's having visions of her enemies hurting her are also from the program.
> 
> Oh, I guess one more thing. Yes. I did mean for “Whooooo’s thirsty?” to have a double meaning. Yes, I did. I'm not even going to apologize. 
> 
> Thank you, again, friends!


	16. Why You Fight, Part II

At dinner that night, Korra noticed Opal giving her potatoes a disgusted look, and didn’t need to ask what had happened.

She watched as Opal used a spoon to aimlessly move her meal around her plate; and when Bolin asked if she was going to finish her food (ignoring the fact that she hadn’t ever started), she smiled and held up a spoonful for him to eat.

It was more of a playful gesture than a romantic one, but Mako still rolled his eyes.

Bolin saw this, and laughed. “Don’t worry, bro,” he said. “You’ll find a girl of your own someday.” He glanced at Asami and then Korra, causing the latter to brace herself. Sato and Mako had already proven to be incompatible. Korra? That was a different story. Not to mention that she had quite the sisterly relationship with Bolin. Why wouldn’t he propose a way that she could actually join the family?

However, while she was mentally compiling the reasons she and Mako wouldn’t make sense as a couple, Bolin went an entirely different direction than Korra expected.

Smiling broadly, he offered, “I understand Toph isn’t married.”

Mako scoffed. “Yeah, like I’d marry Toph,” he said humorlessly.

There was a brief pause.

“She cooks so well, you’d be over at my place all the time.”

The others all laughed. Asami reflected on how it was the first time Korra had done so since fighting Zaheer.

As had become their new habit, they walked the deck together again that night. Korra had grown strong enough that she didn’t need Sato’s support any more, but she had leaned on her during so many previous excursions, she was extra conscious of the small space that existed between them now.

“You’re awfully quiet,” observed Asami. Although she wouldn’t have described her as a chatterbox, Korra rarely seemed this reflective. Sato worried, because usually when Korra was bottling something up, it was because she was upset. Seemingly the only thing that could keep her silent was a determination to carry the heaviest burdens alone.

“I’m tired, Asami. I’m so tired.”

They both stopped walking. Sato had been watching Korra’s stride for signs of fatigue. Concerned she’d missed something, she asked if Korra wanted to return to the cabin.

“It’s not that,” Korra sighed, then more animatedly added, “I wish I could tell you everything!”

“So do I,” responded Asami softly.

Korra’s shoulders fell, her chin sunk to her chest, and her hair dropped in front of her eyes.

“I know you want to be strong for your friends,” Sato continued, “but it’s your friends who make you strong. Remember? You were the one who told me that.”

“I did?” Not only did Korra raise her face back up at this, but her eyes widened until they reflected the moonlight enough to look like large sapphires.

“You did. You told me that you fight for the people you care about.”

Korra slumped again. “Well, I can’t fight now, can I?”

As much as Asami had previously been there for Korra by listening, by guiding her through her own feelings, something told her right now, what the swordswoman needed was encouragement.

“You _are_ fighting, Korra,” Sato told her. “It’s just…a different battlefield is all. Honestly, it’s a battle I don’t know how to tell you to win, but I know you can’t do it if you stop trying. And I know you can’t do it if you disconnect from yourself, from the people who love you.”

Suddenly and without warning, Korra threw her arms around Asami’s shoulders. Surprised by the gesture, Sato only had a second to return the embrace before Korra pulled back.

As brief as the moment was, Asami admitted to herself that she had needed it. Helping Korra had been so important, so significant to her that—as much meaning as she got out of it—it had also become a bit emotionally draining. This hug had replenished her.

Korra, meanwhile, didn’t seem so much replenished as newly resolute.

“You’re right,” she proclaimed. “This is the fight now. I need to stop living in the past, and neither of us can stop the future.”

It was not a straight path forward, but Korra kept improving. It was not continuous. There were setbacks. Ultimately, however, there was progress.

The same could not be said about Korra and Asami’s relationship. There had been no repeat of their embrace, which had seemed to introduce a new level of awkwardness by making them both aware of how much they wanted to be close to one another. This was exacerbated by the reminder they received of that very fact every time they sparred.

And they spent a _lot_ of time sparring. Korra was quite competitive, and hand-to-hand combat was the one area where she and Asami were the most evenly matched.

“Enough!” Sato laughed one morning, just enough to take the edge off the statement, but it was clear she was frustrated.

While she tried to tell herself that the only excuse for her frustration was that she’d just heard “best two-out-of-three” for the one hundredth time, deep down she knew that wasn’t true.

Likewise, Korra could try to pretend she was merely frustrated by her loss of moments ago, but she knew that wasn’t true.

The only reason they didn’t talk about it was because they always seemed to have something more important to discuss, and usually that was Korra’s recovery.

“So it doesn’t seem like you’ve had a nightmare in some time,” noted Asami as she stretched slightly to cool down.

Korra agreed.

“And this morning’s training went well.”

“For you maybe.”

It hadn’t actually gone that poorly for Korra. She was simply still stung by their last bout. Recognizing that, Asami let the comment slide.

“And we’ve been using real swords for our evening training the past couple days.”

“Plus, teaching Opal,” Korra added.

“Plus, teaching Opal,” concurred Asami.

Her peevishness from a moment ago vanished almost instantaneously. Korra rocked onto her toes and gave a beaming smile. “Do you think I’ve kicked it, then?”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Sato said quietly. “What I was going to say is that maybe you’ve earned the night off?”

Having her hopes dashed angered her to the point that Asami’s compassion sounded like pity to to Korra’s ears.

“I don’t _need_ a night off,” she glowered. “What I need is to get better.”

“You are getting better,” pleaded Asami. “Just…don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Oh, I get it. You don’t trust me!”

“What? No, Korra. That’s not it.”

Asami wasn’t sure if Korra heard her protest, or whether she missed it in storming off.

As for Korra, she only took one step before realizing it was foolish to think Asami would treat her with contempt. Her guilt and pride took her even further away before she finally turned around, and by that time, Asami was already heading off to do a routine inspection of the ship.

The apology, when it did come, was in the form of a sheepish “Mind if I join you?” in the mess hall.

Korra stood there, plate in hand, waiting incredibly anxiously for Asami to allow her to sit next to her. Sato had never been angry, merely hurt; so she patted the open seat in invitation.

Their truce lasted through lunch and dinner, but when Asami didn’t show up on time for their evening training, Korra was racked with fear again.

The purposefulness with which Asami eventually strode up frightened Korra even more.

“You didn’t want the night off,” Asami declared.

Korra’s sword was hanging loosely in her hand. Asami struck it with her own weapon, almost hard enough to knock it away from the unwary woman.

“Korra, I trust you. I do,” proclaimed Asami with determination. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

“Yeah? How?” Korra’s tone was more curious than combative, even though Sato herself seemed to be gearing up for a confrontation.

“By refusing to take it easy on you. I’m going to prove it…by beating you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I got stuck writing this chapter, I reread all the nice little notes people have been leaving me...just in case you wonder if I've been exaggerating when I've said how much I value your input. And whatever form that input as taken: suggestions, kind words, kudos; I've taken it all to heart. Thank you so very much!
> 
> There isn't much of historical note here, but there are some more homages to the TV series in this section.
> 
> The Opal and Bolin from the Legend of Korra will always have kale, which she does indeed feed to him. This Opal and Bolin will always have their taters. On the show, Korra talks about how tired she's become, albeit it's Katara to whom she is speaking. And it's Toph who diagnoses Korra's problem as being disconnected from herself and the people who love her, but that, too, is a line from LOK.
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger. It seems a cruel way to thank you, but I am truly grateful. And I want to give you reason to continue reading. ;)


	17. Manipulations

_“Korra, I trust you. I do,” proclaimed Asami with determination. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”_

_“Yeah? How?” Korra’s tone was more curious than combative, even though Sato herself seemed to be gearing up for a confrontation._

_“By refusing to take it easy on you. I’m going to prove it…by beating you.”_

Raising an eyebrow, Korra mirrored Asami’s ready stance, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. She had learned that Sato could be intense, but this was beyond anything that Korra had seen from the Captain before. In fact, she wasn’t sure anyone had seen this side of Asami.

Far from the typical, tentative first strikes of a sparring session, Asami assailed Korra with little restraint. She drove Korra back, until Korra marshaled the sense of urgency necessary to counter.

Even then, though, she couldn’t quite match the Captain’s effort. Not only was Korra still sweating out the very last bits of poison in her system, but Sato was fighting with the gusto of a woman who really believed something was on the line.

At the same time, Korra was still the more gifted of the two, making it impossible for either to gain the upper hand.

Back-and-forth they went until all the other sailors had retired for the night, until the moon had risen to its highest point, until they both were completely spent. Their swordplay had become sloppy, and their breaths were ragged. It was Korra who finally admitted they simply could not continue, but a stalemate was just as bad as a loss in her mind.

There was only one thing that prevented her from going into a sulk as a result, and it was the look on Asami’s face. All the fear she had been hiding was written there. All the worry that—out of her desire to do something, anything to help Korra—she may have instead ended up hurting her, was made plain.

It was a terror she couldn’t mask from Korra, because Korra had been the cause of it. It was only at that moment that the Southern Tribeswoman realized the cost of forcing the world’s greatest navigator to work without a map.

“Korra?” The Captain’s voice was as broken as she looked, which was saying something.

With three steps separating them, Korra took two forward. Then she resisted the gravity pulling them together. “I’m okay. I’m okay, Sami. I didn’t revisit the past this time. I stayed here, now…with you.”

Asami shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “I didn’t go easy on you.”

Drained in sweat, they were both still catching their breath. Their hands stung and muscles ached.

Korra smiled her crooked smile and massaged the back of her neck.

“Obviously!” she replied.

They stared at one another. The only sounds were that of the waves gently lapping and the creeking noise of the _Avatar’s_ wooden frame resettling as it lolled from side-to-side.

And then both women dissolved into laughter.

The tension broken, the Captain offered her arm. “You doing all right after all that?”

Korra took the arm offered to her, allowing it to nimbly wind about her waist. She might have been too stubborn and proud to have admitted when she actually needed help, but now in order to be near to Asami, she was more than willing to _pretend_ to be in need…She was also too proud, however, not to let Sato know she was pretending.

“Ouch! Slower, maybe?” Korra urged, but the fact that she was still smiling? It intentionally gave her pretense away. “You really didn’t take it easy.”

“Slower, huh?” returned Asami, humoring the swordswoman. She’d discerned that Korra was being theatrical, but she had not guessed the motive behind it. Asami thought, if anything, Korra was playfully mocking Sato’s abundance of caution.

Her desire to be close meant she was more than willing to be mocked.

Shortly after reaching their cabin, Asami returned the favor, sharing what she wanted without sharing it directly. Depositing the “helpless” Korra on the bed, as she had so many times before, Sato sighed, rolled her own shoulders, and asked: “I suppose you’re going to need another massage?”

She didn’t even have to bluff. Sato was genuinely sore, so when she rubbed and stretched her own neck, it was only partly to turn the situation to her advantage.

“I guess it can wait,” Korra said.

Sato’s manipulation may have been far more subtle, but it was just as effective.

“I mean, I guess I owe _you_ one or two, huh?”

“Oh, that would be nice, Korra.”

Asami fell asleep smiling, as Korra kneaded her tired muscles.

“Mornings are evil,” Korra observed as she stomped her foot into her boot the next day. Asami had just returned to the cabin. “Have you been up long?”

Sato nodded. “Wanted to check the life boats. Now I’m going to go over the navigational charts.”

Without even being prompted, Korra handed Asami her compass. The Captain sat down at her desk, pulling out the relevant maps, and pondered them.

Even though she couldn’t read them, Korra watched over Asami’s shoulder.

They remained engrossed like this, enjoying their new equilibrium, until Bolin came in like a tornado.

“Opal…crow’s nest…big ship…two flags…waiting…orders.” He spent what was remaining of his breath on one final word and a salute: “Captain.”

Fortunately, Mako stepped in at this point, and he was ready to translate. “We need you on deck,” he said. “Opal has spotted a ship off the port bow. It’s sitting there now, but not making any maneuvers.”

“One of ours?” Asami asked.

Mako explained that it was impossible to tell. “It’s flying two flags. One is Earth Kingdom; the other is Republic City.”

Grabbing her spyglass, Asami briskly made her way to the bow. It was clear this was a situation that demanded her immediate attention. Korra, Mako, and a still recovering Bolin were on her heels.

“Why two flags?” Sato said to herself just as much to anybody else. “If they were going to attack, they’d fly one. If they wanted to surrender, it would be a white flag.”

Opal had just come down from her perch. She’d been asking herself the same questions since she had spotted the vessel, and had developed a theory. “Could they want help?” She waved her hands and started imitating someone from the other ship to illustrate her point. “Two flags could mean, ‘Hey, there. Somebody? Anybody?’”

Everyone turned to look at her.

“What? It was just a thought,” she responded.

“It’s a good thought,” complimented Asami. “Bolin, have everyone report to their battle stations. I don’t want to take a chance that we’re being played here. Mako, help me navigate alongside that ship, please?”

“And us?” Korra thumbed in her and Opal’s direction.

“Like I said, the crew should report to their battle stations. You need to be ready in case there’s a fight.”

Korra felt an uncomfortable churning in her stomach. It wasn’t the adrenaline she had experienced before their other encounters. It was a nervousness that was new and unwelcome.

It became especially bad once they got closer. She recognized the Earth Kingdom uniforms. More than that, she was forcefully reminded of Zaheer’s utter stillness in a heaving mass of humanity. Only this time, it was everyone on deck who was nearly motionless and silent.

Like the members of the _Avatar_ , the other ship’s sailors seemed to have been told to brace for anything. Everyone on all sides was waiting. Just waiting.

For what, nobody seemed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always for the feedback. You're all very kind to leave kudos or make comments. I've especially enjoyed the interaction with those who regularly leave a note. Appreciate you, my friends! 
> 
> Pirate ships routinely flew the wrong flag before hoisting the Jolly Roger (or some version of it) right as they were about to attack. This was true to the point where flags were mostly just ignored. There was an exception. Ships in a fleet would communicate with one another via semaphore. In any case, flying the flags of two nations would have been a conundrum. 
> 
> Bolin's breathless message to Korra and Asami regarding the ship's sighting is based on how he informs them about about the Earth Queen on the TV show. And Korra sweating out the last bits of poison is a metaphor, a physical representation of what Korra endured mentally (under Toph's instruction) in the program. 
> 
> Thank you again. Being able to write during this time has been therapeutic. Having encouragement to write has proven to be even more than that.


	18. Dueling

The silence was broken by a clipped, female voice. “Permission to come aboard?”

Korra, who had taken up a position close to Asami, could both see and hear her deliver the response of, “Permission granted.”

The gangplank was lowered for a woman of taciturn bearing, whose movement conveyed purpose. She was roughly Korra’s height and weight, and she was accompanied by a slightly taller man with sharply angled beard and mustache.

As they came on board, Asami gestured for Korra to join her and Mako. “I want you here to keep things safe,” she informed her, before their guests were within earshot. Then she whispered in response to an unasked question, “I trust you.”

Korra merely nodded.

It was obvious the woman approaching them was the other ship’s captain. Although it lacked her warmth, she had the same commanding aura as Asami. In another sense, she also reminded Korra of herself. She possessed a look of dogged determination as well as a certain swagger.

After reflecting on it, though, Korra did grant she wasn’t quite as determined to do everything on her own anymore. Plus, her swagger was much more tempered than before.

She finished her ruminations just as Asami began the introductions.

“Asami Sato, my first mate Mako, and the _Avatar’s_ sword and shield, Korra.”

Inwardly, she smiled at the title, but outwardly, Korra was so on guard, she showed no emotion.

“I’m Kuvira, captain of _The United_ ,” the woman introduced herself. “This is my first mate Guan. Perhaps you have somewhere we can go and talk?”

“We can use the wardroom,” Asami answered, and then led the way there.

With the democratic way Sato ran her ship, the wardroom wasn’t often used for officers’ meals or meetings like on other vessels. However, it seemed perfect for this—whatever this was.

Kuvira did not leave them in doubt of her intentions for long. With Guan silently hovering over her shoulder, she sat down at the long, dark walnut table and announced, “I would like to propose we work together.”

Taking Guan’s refusal to sit as a cue, Korra and Mako also remained standing. Truth to tell, Korra may have done so anyway, just to have been more prepared if a fight broke out.

Meanwhile, Asami had taken the seat across from her counterpart, and seemed surprised at her offer. “Work together? To what end?”

“To help the Earth Kingdom share the same order they’ve brought to our empire with the rest of the world,” Kuvira said evenly.

Korra was amazed by how cool Asami remained as she responded.

“I know what your definition of order is, Captain Kuvira. Not interested.”

Kuvira tried again. “Technology and innovation should be what drive a nation forward, Captain. The rulers of the Earth Kingdom have the will and wisdom to see that.”

“Oh, I don’t question their will, but how can you know the wisest rulers are in charge, when—instead of debating ideas—they imprison or kill anyone who disagrees with them?”

Now it was Kuvira’s turn to seem surprised. She shook her head, and quietly chuckled in a rueful sort of way. “You’re still loyal to King Wu.”

Mako scowled. Asami’s eyes narrowed; Korra’s widened.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sato demanded.

“Maybe what you should ask is how loyal Republic City is to you?” Kuvira stood. She did not leave, however, suggesting a second offer instead.

“This was my mistake,” she said. “It’s not one for which I want my crew to suffer. I’m sure you don’t relish the idea of a gun battle at this distance either, Captain, so may I propose we resolve this with a one-on-one duel?”

Mako crossed his arms. “With the winner getting what exactly?”

“Well, you’re pirates. You should appreciate the opportunity to help yourself to all _The United’s_ cargo.” Kuvira was straightening her already pressed and polished green uniform. 

Asami pushed for clarification. “And if you win?”

“We take you as prisoner, Captain Sato. The rest of your crew, however, will be allowed to go free.”

Hearing this, both Korra and Mako objected loudly and strenuously.

Kuvira cut them off with a wave of her hand. “We are a fully stocked warship. We have no need for your supplies. We cannot sell them in port. What the Earth Kingdom _could_ use is one less enemy on the high seas.”

“I agree to your terms,” Asami announced.

This renewed Korra and Mako voicing their objections.

“If...” Sato continued, “your fighter takes on our swordswoman here.”

“I will claim that honor myself,” declared Kuvira.

“Then let’s head to the deck.”

At Asami’s instruction, Kuvira and Guan departed the wardroom. Mako followed, with Korra and Asami behind him.

“You’ve got this,” Sato told Korra. There was not one iota of doubt in her voice.

Korra half-smiled. “I know,” she responded. “But, Captain? You need to do something for me.”

Asami affirmed that she would do whatever Korra asked, prompting Korra to make her request.

“I need you to stand somewhere I can see you.”

The crew of the _Avatar_ knew the drill. Ropes and rubble were quickly moved. Korra and the Captain squared off.

Kuvira was extremely agile, with the grace of a dancer. Korra would not have expected someone so squared away to move like poetry, but Kuvira did just this. Unlike Amon, her actions were simple, and not theatrical. Unlike Zaheer, she did not rely on power.

Korra was able to parry her first strike and make her miss completely with the second and third. However, Korra’s counterattacks were also deflected or failed to connect entirely.

Once Korra went on the attack, she drove Kuvira into a retreat, but it wasn’t long before Kuvira, with her lively footwork, was able to maneuver into a position where she was again the one forcing a response.

Korra ducked and dodged, which wasn’t easy. Kuvira’s movements were so fluid, it was hard to predict from where her next assault would come. On one successful evasion, Korra caused Kuvira to lose her balance, even if she quickly regained it.

There was a roar of encouragement from Korra’s crewmates, but it went unheeded. She could hardly even hear the clang of metal on metal, the rush of her own blood was that loud in her ears.

Their fight covered so much ground, sailors had to scurry back to allow it to continue. Asami made sure to keep true to her promise, however, and always remained in Korra’s sightline.

Korra didn’t have an opportunity to appreciate this, as the fight was so consuming. She could only focus on Kuvira and the patch she was wearing over her right eye.

_Wait. No, that wasn’t right. It was Amon who wore a patch._

Korra blinked hard and realized there was a birthmark under that eye. No patch.

She tried to look over at Asami, hoping that would ground her. Even now her breath was starting to hitch, as she needed more air than she seemed to be able to bring into her lungs.

Korra’s stumbling gave Kuvira the chance to pull back a strand of black hair that had fallen into her face; but falling into the fore-mast ultimately proved even more fortuitous for the Southern Tribeswoman, because Kuvira followed with a swing of her sword, and her steel ended up stuck in the wood.

That gave Korra a second to regroup. It also gave her a moment to see Kuvira’s sword up close and observe the toxic fluid dripping acidly from its tip.

_No. That wasn’t right either. Zaheer was the one with the poison._

Blinking even harder, Korra saw Kuvira’s sword was actually as pristine as she was…or at least had been before this fight. Korra had succeeded in rumpling her.

That wasn’t the only thing she observed while Kuvira pulled her sword loose. Finally, with a chance to look over to Asami, she saw the Captain with her jaw set. There was certainty in those jade-green eyes.

_I trust you._

Both ready to resume their duel, Korra went after Kuvira with a thrust that made the woman jump backward. She had to move quickly to avoid Kuvira turning the tables again, so she followed immediately with two overhead strokes that Kuvira managed to block, but which drove her to the Avatar’s railings. With one more mighty underhand swing, Korra sent _The United’s_ Captain through the railing, and into the water below.

Not very long ago, Korra might have loudly celebrated such a victory. The time she had spent on the _Avatar_ taught her to appreciate the win without gloating. On top of which, Korra heard the sound of an uncoordinated splashing, not the kind one would associate with someone simply treading water.

She looked over the ship’s edge, and what she saw caused her to drop her sword, put a foot on a spot of undamaged railing, launch herself over, and dive in to the water. She caused so little splash, it was like the sea simply opened up to greet her.

“Korra!” Asami yelled, running to where she could see what was happening overboard.

Guan sauntered over to the same spot and emotionlessly observed that Kuvira couldn’t swim.

“I can see that!” barked Asami.

Overhearing this, Opal punched Bolin in the shoulder. “Don’t just stand here,” she yelled, “Lower one of the boats to them.”

Bolin made a motion as if to do that, but quickly doubled back. He launched himself at Opal to give her a firm, proud kiss.

“What was _that_ for?” she asked.

“You got it right,” he informed her with a wink. Then he called his brother.

Meanwhile, in the water, Korra dove beneath the waves to grab Kuvira. Once they surfaced, Korra could see the Captain was alive, but still out of it.

“Are we dead?” Kuvira asked. Then realizing she was in Korra’s arms, she tried to push herself away, before acknowledging this was the only thing keeping her afloat.

“How can you be in the navy and not know how to swim?” Korra retorted bitingly.

With just as much bite, Kuvira answered, “If you’re going to lecture me, I think I’d rather drown.”

The look on her face suggested she might prefer to drown in any case, and it caused Korra to soften and recall what Toph had taught her about her enemies.

“I understand wanting to keep the people you care about safe,” she offered.

Kuvira turned away as much as she could, given the fact that the two were treading water together, waiting on a life raft that they could see was being lowered to them. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you want order, because change is hard, and chaos can be dangerous,” Korra said. “I know you volunteered to fight me to keep your crew out of harm’s way. Probably thought you’d win, because you believe in yourself and your cause.”

Kuvira was silent. She and Korra bobbed up and down on the water.

“And I also know what it’s like,” mused Korra, not unkindly, “to want to be needed, because that’s more secure and less scary than being wanted.”

There was no further conversation exchanged. The life boat reached them shortly after. Mako and Bolin were there to help lift the women aboard.

Once back on the _Avatar_ , Opal had towels ready; although Asami didn’t wait for Korra to dry off to wrap her in an embrace.

“I knew you could it,” she murmured into her damp hair.

Korra stiffened. It was not because of how she was being cradled. It was because of what she saw now on the horizon.

“It’s the _HMS Future_ ,” she said.

Sato turned, leaving her hands on Korra’s upper arms. “Oh, good!” she enthused. “That's my father's ship! Dad can help us unload _The United’s_ cargo.”

“You don’t understand! He’s not here to help,” Korra cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longish chapter. Lots of notes.
> 
> Okay, first an apology. I know I've kept up the slow burn long enough that even Nickelodeon's executives are like, "Oh, Come. On!" And I'm now regularly chanting KISS! KISS! KISS! at my computer screen. You've all been very patient and encouraging. I love the comments and really appreciate kudos. I *promise* you I have found the jokes you've made about this funny. So I have decided...to include a couple of angst ridden chapters that will make the eventual payoff worth it. 
> 
> BLERGH. I really am the worst. :(
> 
> (Seriously, though, it's necessary to get this story to where it needs to go, and I wish I'd included more Korrasami before now.)
> 
> Nautical/historical notes on this chapter? Not much beyond the fact that almost every single photo of a wardroom I looked at to research this had a long, dark wood table in it. And ships of this era did have wardrooms.
> 
> Which just leaves the ways this chapter mirrors the TV show. Well, Kuvira--the Great Uniter and a former dancer--was designed to be somewhat a reflection of who Korra was early in LOK, just as she is here: similar height, weight, eagerness to fight, cockiness, and wounded in ways that didn't necessarily make her stronger. I hope you think this story's Korra has moved beyond that a little, like she did on television. Kuvira's rationale of serving the Earth Kingdom, because "Technology and innovation should be what drive a nation forward," is lifted from the show, so is her challenging Korra to a one-on-one battle. Her trip into the drink (including ending up in Korra's arms leading to a temporary concern they might have died) is a nod to their trip to the Spirit World. 
> 
> Oh, and I did try to hint ahead to the result of this fight. "The crew of the Avatar knew the drill. Ropes and rubble were quickly moved. Korra and the Captain squared off," is almost exactly the language I used before Korra challenged Mako in chapter one, and she has knocked people overboard to spare their life before, specifically the crew members of the Equalist.
> 
> I also tried to hint ahead to the arrival of the HMS Future. (See chapter 15's title, and Korra saying, "Neither of us can stop the future," in chapter 16.)
> 
> I genuinely hope you are in a place where you are healthy and safe. I hope you are able to celebrate Pride Month. I'm celebrating by slow burning everything to ashes. Sorry...Again. Perhaps you will accept, by way of an apology, that Opal finally got the difference between a ship and a boat correct!


	19. The Future is Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the description of an act of violence.

“What do you mean he’s not here to help, Korra?” Asami demanded.

Korra pulled back from Sato, gently removing her hands from her arms. “The people of Republic City believe we’re truly pirates now and have sunk several of their ships.”

Asami put even more distance between them, taking a few steps back. “Why would they think that?”

“There was one survivor of an attack. He told King Wu it was the _Avatar’s_ doing,” Korra explained. She swallowed hard. “I know it’s not true. Bolin reminded me that sailors who are hurt are often compensated for it. I realized then this man was probably paid off. Zaheer told me he left a man alive to deliver his message. That’s likely what actually happened to the sailor’s crewmates.”

There was an incredible look of pain on Sato’s face. “And why didn’t you tell me…” She corrected herself. “Tell _us_ this before?”

Kuvira interrupted. “Because it’s probably your father pulling the strings? Maybe your girlfriend didn’t want to be the one to point out he’d be one of the few with enough money and influence.”

The knife was unsheathed so quickly, Korra—even if she had wanted to—didn’t have time to stop it.

Asami was holding it to Kuvira’s throat.

“You’re lying,” she hissed.

Surprisingly, it did not look like Kuvira was trying to torment her. She did not smile. She did not taunt. She only asked in a matter-of-fact tone, “Surely, you’ve figured out that’s the reason I thought you’d want to work together? I’d just recently heard rumors of your betrayal from one of our Republic City prisoners.”

The anger passed from Asami’s expression, replaced by a look of utter defeat. She removed the knife from Kuvira’s neck. She did not collapse, but her entire posture slumped.

“You should go,” she said.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Bolin interjected. “Why don’t we agree to work together now?”

“Because,” answered Mako, “if we do that, we become the traitors we’re believed to be.”

“If we let _The United_ just sail off without even taking their cargo, that’s not going to look any better,” Opal pointed out.

Kuvira nodded toward Guan. “Let him go, and take me prisoner,” she suggested. “You don’t have time to loot our ship, but he can sail _The United_ away without engaging your father, yet you’ll still have a victory over the Earth Kingdom.”

Asami looked from Mako to Bolin to Opal, receiving confirming nods from all three. She pointedly did not consult Korra, whose heart was breaking with every passing second.

“Go,” Sato told Guan. “But if you even think about firing on my father’s ship, I will sink you before he ever gets a chance.”

In response, Guan clicked his heels together and bowed.

As he left, Asami confronted Kuvira. “You realize you’re now on a ship being hunted by the Earth Kingdom and Republic City?”

“I realize that, Captain. I’m ready.” She held up her hands, surrendering to the fact that she was almost certainly going to be bound or chained. Asami ordered neither.

“Tenzin!” she called. “Take her to the brig, please. When that’s done, return here. I think we’re going to need you to help pilot the ship.”

“What do we do now?” Mako asked. “Sail to the Southern Tundra? Ask for the Water Tribe to give us refuge?”

Asami gave a passing glance to Korra. “No. We can’t risk causing a diplomatic incident. It might cost Republic City its alliance with the Southern Water Tribe. Zaofu isn’t an option either. They won’t risk offending a trading partner by taking us in.”

“Ba Sing Sei?” Bolin proposed.

“We could head to Ba Sing Se,” responded Sato, “but anywhere other than home, and we’d have to live out the rest of our days there, because we’d never have a chance to clear our names. No, we only have one choice: Race home to Republic City and make our case to King Wu.”

Even knowing it meant running a gauntlet of the Republic City navy, it did seem like the obvious course of action the way she explained it, so her words had the effect of an order.

“Should we hoist the sails?” inquired Mako.

“First, I…need to turn over the ship,” Asami gestured at Korra, “to her.”

Korra’s eyes were large. “What? Give _me_ the _Avatar_?”

“Genius,” whispered Bolin, while Mako nodded.

Opal lowered her expressive eyebrows, conveying impatience. “Someone want to explain that for those of us who haven’t exactly kept up with the mari-times?”

“The Avatar is known as a Southern Water Tribe ship that sails a Republic City flag,” Bolin explained. “But if the Captain gives Korra the ship…”

“We can honorably fly under a Southern Water Tribe flag,” finished Opal knowingly. “That is genius.”

“There’s one other reason,” Asami said resolutely. “It means Korra will get to choose a new captain, one she trusts…”

Korra tried to stop Sato here, but she continued.

“And that captain will be the one to set the punishment for her dishonesty.”

There was a moment of silence while that sunk in. A moment was all they had, however, before they all needed to scatter.

Korra helped with raising the mizzen-mast. Then she went to Asami, who was behind the wheel. Desperately wanting to reach out and touch her, Korra was anguished by the fact that the helm stood between them.

“There’s no way I’m making someone else captain,” she said. “I trust you.”

She said it with the same conviction that Asami had when speaking to Korra, right before welcoming Kuvira to the ship. The irony was not lost on Sato.

“That’s brave of you,” she replied coolly. “Because, take my word, that doesn’t always work out…Look at me. I was hurt by my father _and_ the person I care about most in this world.”

Asami was equally as surprised that she had said the words, as Korra was to hear them.

“Asami…” Korra second-guessed herself, thinking maybe such familiarity wouldn’t be appreciated right now. “Captain, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t…”

“Why did you join our crew anyway?” Sato cut her off. “If you thought we were a bunch of traitors, why join the _Avatar_?”

This was not the conversation she wanted to have right now. Korra wanted to apologize, to explain completely instead of in fragments, answering question after understandable question.

“I had heard the rumors,” she said. “I didn’t assume they were true.”

“And if they were?” demanded Asami.

Korra again felt the distance between them, and gulped down a desire to weep, because she knew her honest response would not bridge it.

“I’m not quite sure. Maybe try to unite the crew behind me and take over?”

“Well, the _Avatar_ is yours now, anyway,” Asami brooded. “I’m going to be at the helm until we put enough distance between us and my father. That shouldn’t take long. Serves him right for refusing to command a ship just because it wasn’t made by the right people. You have between now and then to decide if you really want to leave me in charge.”

Korra sat down right there on the deck in the lotus position, stubbornly refusing to leave Sato. She was content to remain there under the Captain’s eye, feeling herself watched. She only hoped that her mere presence and insistence on remaining with Asami were a sufficient answer—for now—to the hundreds of questions she knew Sato was thinking, but not vocalizing.

There was no way to gauge whether it was working. At times it seemed as if it was maybe helpful, but at others, Asami appeared to be fighting off a crying jag.

Whatever punishment the Captain had coming for her, Korra thought, it wouldn’t be enough.

When it came time to inform the crew of everything that was happening, Asami had them all sit down on the deck together. Only Tenzin was absent. He had volunteered to make sure they remained well ahead of the _HMS Future_ , and received a special briefing from Sato, so that he wouldn’t be left out of the loop.

She laid out the challenge ahead of them concisely and with clarity.

They would attempt to avoid confrontation with her father’s ship. After all, it wasn’t clear if the crew had turned on them, or if they had merely been duped by a rumor Hiroshi had started.

If the weather held, that should be easy enough to do in open waters. Nearer to Republic City, things could get very dicey. The _Avatar_ would need to avoid navy ships. And Sato’s eventual goal was to hug the shoreline at Yue Bay so closely that they could sail in under the guns of the fort there, but that water was also shallow enough that it would pose a huge test for a ship as large as theirs.

On top of all this, the reward for having accomplished such a remarkable feat was still in doubt. There was no guarantee that King Wu would take them at their word.

What Korra had learned from Zaheer would help with that, as would the fact that she had rescued Kuvira, whom they could turn over as a prisoner.

That’s how Asami segued to the trickier topic regarding the Southern Water Tribeswoman.

Whereas before, her voice had been empathetic, and she had conveyed the same concern felt by her crew, now her tone was distant, almost clinical. She recounted how Korra had known about the accusations against the _Avatar_ even before she had joined them. However, she never shared that information with anyone, potentially putting them all in danger.

There was only one punishment she could think of that would be appropriate.

“Fifty lashes with the whip,” she announced.

Even as Korra accepted the judgement, she hung her head and let out a mournful sigh.

Mako, meanwhile, walked up to Sato, turning his back to the seated sailors while doing so. Quietly, so they couldn’t hear him, he asked, “Are you sure you want to do this, Captain? People have died after receiving that sentence.”

“And how many of us would have died if we had encountered a Republic City ship while she was recovering from Zaheer’s poison?” Sato countered. “Tie her up, please.”

Feeling the weight of her punishment, Korra started walking toward the mast, even without Mako’s escort. He had no choice, but to follow her.

She tried, but could not prevent her mind from racing from thought to thought, chiding herself when a superficial concern for the beautiful doublet Asami had bought her intruded. Mostly, she just focused on the fact that _she deserved what was coming_.

She stood, knees wanting to buckle, on one side of the mast, as on the other, Mako wound the rope around her hands.

“Korra, why don’t you ask the Captain to reconsider?” he suggested, still conversing in whispers.

She shook her head. “I can’t do that. She once told me that she couldn’t be captain if she couldn’t discipline her crew. I might as well have named someone new to lead the ship when she gave me the chance.”

“Korra…” pleaded Mako again, to which she shook her head even more forcefully.

Having finished the final knot, he sadly backed away.

Korra’s anxiety grew, especially as now she couldn’t easily view what was happening behind her. In her peripheral vision, she witnessed someone hand Asami a cat ‘o nine tails; but she felt, rather than saw, when she moved into position to use it. Korra closed her eyes after that.

“Wait!” Bolin yelled. “Whatever punishment she serves, I should, too.”

“What?” responded Asami.

There was a pause. Bolin was racking his memory for a specific set of words.

“I’m…expediting the process by which you realize I’m also to blame,” he finally said.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Bolin,” Sato chided.

“Well…you can’t do this!”

There was a pause. Korra had no clue what was going on. The next thing she knew, Asami was asking if anyone else agreed with Bolin’s assessment.

“I do!” cried Opal.

_“So do I!”_

_“Me, too.”_

_“Don’t do it, Captain.”_

Gradually, it became unnecessary to actually express this thought through words. Korra could hear the ruffling movement of sailors as they stood in support.

She half-laughed, half-sobbed when she heard Opal say, “Toph, you don’t need to put your hand up.”

“Very well,” responded Asami. “Mako? Kuvira’s already in the brig, so take Korra to the isolation cell, please.”

When they were gone, Sato rounded on Bolin.

“I know! I know!” he said, defensively putting his hands up. “I’m going to be peeling potatoes for the rest of my life.”

“For a week,” Asami corrected. “I also think maybe you and Opal would like to make use of the captain’s quarters for the next few days?”

His jaw dropped.

“Oh, and Bolin? Bring your own bedding.”

“Right, right. Of course.” he affirmed. “Wait. Where will yours be?”

A few minutes after this, Toph—with uncanny accuracy—was throwing an assemblage of red fabric at Korra’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been sticking pretty close to a map established by the television series so far, but this is somewhat of a detour. Therefore, I will say, as much as I have appreciated your kudos (thank you!) and comments (thank you, thank you!) before, they mean even more if you choose to leave them now. 
> 
> That's not to say there aren't parallels to LOK here, but--just to be faithful to precedent--I'll start with the historical and nautical notes. 
> 
> Asami's battle strategy of sailing so close to shore that the guns of a fort would overshoot them is similar to how Flag Officer Andrew Foote's fleet helped Union General Ulysses S. Grant take Fort Henry and Fort Donelson during the U.S. Civil War. Also at Donelson, Foote's foot was injured, while Grant engaged in a literal Pillow fight. (The opposing Confederates were led by Brig. Gen. Gideon J. Pillow...Dude, I'd have changed my name.)
> 
> I've probably really screwed up my future Google searches by looking up how many times you can survive being whipped. There's obviously no hard and fast rule, but generally prisoners were only given 50 lashes at a time. If more were sentenced, the prisoner would receive them at a later date.
> 
> And the mizzen-mast is at the back of the ship. (The fore-mast is in front, the main-mast in the middle). So Korra going there would be an effort to stay close to Asami who was at the wheel, also in the rear. 
> 
> Now, as I've said, this isn't quite as reflective of what happened in the TV show as some other chapters, but there are some tie-ins. Kuvira doesn't murder Hiroshi, per se; but she's the one who kills any chance that he and Asami will be getting along any time soon. I like to imagine she's doing it to prevent Korra from having to break the bad news, as a thanks for having saved her from drowning. This and her volunteering to be prisoner give her, her redemptive arc. Oh, and she calls the two ladies girlfriends without anyone directly having informed her of the relationship, as she does in Ruins of the Empire.
> 
> I kind of wanted to have an important moment for Sato come when she had a weapon her father had given her in her hand, much like she experiences in the series when she shocks her father with the electric glove. You'll also notice Asami earlier said Hiroshi didn't want to captain the Avatar, because it was logistically different than sailing a Republic City ship, but now she's realizing his bigotry.
> 
> A final writer's note, I think if you go back and reread earlier chapters, you'll find a lot of hints toward what happens here, but one of my favorites is that Korra's refusal to outright agree with Toph that Asami would--under the right circumstances--deceptively fly under a false flag is rewarded, because Sato is clever enough to avoid it. 
> 
> As I've said before, this is my first time writing fan fiction, and so I'm hopeful that you found yourself saying, "What?!? No!" more times during this chapter than "What? Noooooooo." 
> 
> Thanks again for reading along, for all your encouragement and best wishes. They mean so much to me! Be safe and be well, my friends.


	20. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I thank you every time I update, but especially to those who commented last chapter, I am grateful. Part of the way I am showing my gratitude is by taking your notes so very seriously that I think you will see some of your ideas incorporated here.

Unwinding the blanket from around her head and spitting out the threads she accidentally inhaled, Korra looked wide eyed at the woman who had delivered it.

“Toph, what in Raava’s name is going on?”

“Well, Sneakypants, you got yourself locked up,” Toph answered.

“No, I mean is Asami okay?”

Toph started to depart. “Why wouldn’t she be?” she shrugged.

“Wait!” Korra really didn’t understand how talking to this woman could always feel so frustrating and yet so gratifying at the same time. “What happened after I was brought here?”

Toph turned back around and shrugged again. “The Captain said she was pleased everyone had agreed to show you mercy, and she had never been prouder to be captain.”

Korra picked up on the use of the word “everyone.” She had suspected the support for her had been unanimous, but having it confirmed made her smile a little. Even the cranky cook had apparently wanted to spare her.

It was such a welcome bit of news in an otherwise painful time, that Korra felt quite overwhelmed; so she made a move to give Toph a hug…only to have the door slammed in her face.

Too short for Korra to see through the barred window of the cell door, Korra could only hear Toph as she walked off.

How much time passed after that, it was impossible for the Southern Tribeswoman to tell. There was no direct sunlight in this part of the ship, and even if there had been, her anguish made every minute seem like an hour.

It was certainly true that she was able to put some of the bedding on the cot and memorize every detail of the room, before she heard a key rattle in the lock.

Asami walked in and stood there. Her arms were across her stomach, hugging herself.

It was the only sign she was in distress. Otherwise she appeared decidedly dispassionate. She moved gracefully, when she moved at all. She still wore her perfectly tailored jacket and waistcoat. Her hair remained tied behind her, and the few strands that had strayed framed her face so perfectly, if you didn’t know any better, you might have suspected they were purposely chosen for such purpose, as opposed to having fallen loose.

However, Korra did know Asami, and knew that as strong and stable as she was, Sato would use the _appearance_ of strength and stability as a shield when she was hurting.

Even trying to read her expression, Korra found Asami’s face as inscrutable as always…and yet, there was something different about this moment. Finally, it struck Korra. Whereas before, Asami had masked her feelings, this time, she was unreadable for the simple reason that her feelings had overwhelmed her.

Sato’s stare was blank and she was standing silent, because she was waiting to see which of the many emotions she was experiencing would win the war raging inside her.

Eventually, the silence was too painful for Korra, so she rushed to fill it. “I’m sure you’re here for the bedding? Toph brought it all, so I guess you have none. One sheet was more than enough to cover this cot.” She gestured at it with a sweeping hand. “In fact, this is so much smaller than the bed, I had to fold it a couple times in order to…”

“We need to talk,” Asami interrupted.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing? I’m talking. I’m pretty sure I haven’t stopped since…”

She spoke so quickly this all sounded like one long word, and Asami interrupted again.

“Oh, Korra, shut up!”

Korra had heard Sato raise her voice before, but this time, it pierced her in such a way that actually caused her physical pain. It didn’t matter what the Captain asked next of her, Korra would do it with zero hesitation.

“You were talking,” Asami finally continued, “but you weren’t saying anything.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Sato answered.

Korra sat down on the cot, figuring that this was going to take a while. “Could you ask me a question?” she said. “I'll tell you everything. I won’t hold back, I promise, but I don’t really know where to start.”

Asami unlatched the arms that had been wrapped around her middle. “How about: When were you going to tell me?”

Nodding, Korra agreed that was a good jumping off point. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I wanted to be able to _prove_ that Hiroshi was behind everything first, because I didn’t want to risk hurting you without proof…Although, I guess I ended up hurting you anyway.”

Sato didn’t sound hurt, but confused, as she pointed out that Korra’s answer was incomplete. “You weren’t just going to let us sail into the Republic City harbor and get blown out of the water?”

“No, of course not!” Korra replied. “I wrote my father, hoping he would explain everything to King Wu.”

“Your father?”

“Uh…Tonraq.”

Asami clearly recognized the name. “The chief of the Southern Water Tribes?” she clarified.

Korra started grabbing fistfuls of blanket as she realized she was adding to the list of secrets she was conceding to having kept. “And first captain of the _Avatar_ ,” she said. “The night you agreed to let me join your crew, I told him about it. I just knew there was no way the _Avatar_ had betrayed Republic City, and he agreed.”

This was a lot to take in. With no energy for anything but processing what she’d just been told, Asami sat down on the cot next to Korra.

“I knew, with your training, your family had to be important. I should have guessed from your familiarity with the ship that it was Tonraq.”

Sato berating herself made Korra feel even worse.

“When did you write him?” Asami asked.

Korra explained she had done so when they were in port, and had hoped to get a response when they made their return trip to Zaofu. Sato thought about it for a moment. Then she pointed out this was before they had ever come across a Republic City vessel.

Korra shrugged. “I already trusted you.”

“You still had a lot of questions when we did see a Republic City ship,” recalled Asami.

“I was a little nervous.” Korra conceded. “It’s like when Toph cooks something new, right? You know it’s going to be delicious, but you’re still anxious about the first bite?”

For some reason, Korra found her voice rising at this point. She was desperately trying to justify herself, and there was something infuriating about Asami’s lack of a reaction. “This was obviously a lot more serious. I’d just told my Dad to put his reputation on the line, to put the alliance between the Southern Water Tribes and Republic City on the line.”

This was not something Korra had anticipated: That she would be the one to start shouting. She felt guilty about it, and yet equally incapable of stopping herself.

“And why aren’t you yelling? Why haven’t you gotten angry? Or punched me? Or…something? I put you in a terrible position!”

Sato confirmed the truth of that with a dark scowl, and her voice was fierce when she finally spoke again. “You put the entire crew in danger,” she said.

“The crew?” Korra almost scoffed. “Yes, that was stupid of me. I didn’t think about what might happen if I couldn’t warn you the minute we encountered a Republic City ship. I didn’t have a plan. I never have a plan, which you probably don’t understand, because you _always_ have one.”

Korra grabbed Asami by the shoulders and continued, “But what about what I did to _you_? I had this secret. I let you tell me everything, and I kept this big thing from you…Asami, if you had, had to use the whip…”

She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence. She released her grip on Sato’s shoulders, and dropped her gaze to the floor.

Just imagining Asami having to bring down the lash was painful. Korra wondered who would have worked harder in that scenario: Sato to stifle tears, or Korra to muffle cries of pain? Who would have washed the blood out of the beautiful, blue doublet? Who would have tended to Korra’s wounds?

Asami briefly and gently trailed the fingers of her left hand between the blades of Korra’s shoulders, the exact area where the whip would have landed, and a very tender gesture in contrast to the violent images running through Korra’s head.

She spoke in a quiet voice. “I could never hurt you like that, Korra.”

Although she had dominated the conversation up until now, this admission combined with Asami’s fleeting touch, left Korra speechless.

“It’s like you said,” Sato breathed, “I always have a plan.”

“Do you mean, you and Bolin?”

“No, no, that was all Bolin,” Asami assured her. “But if he hadn’t done that, I was going to announce that the only way we were going to carry out the sentence is if _everyone_ took a turn with the cat ‘o nine tails. There’s no way the crew would have agreed to it.”

Korra finally looked up. When she encountered the green eyes of the woman next to her, she didn’t see disgust or anger. This compounded the guilt she felt, and she started to well up.

“You sound so sure of that.”

“I have faith in the _Avatar_ ,” Sato said simply.

The statement offered a glimmer of hope, and Korra chased it down with reckless abandon. “ _All_ the members of her crew?” she whispered.

Asami considered her answer. “It really hurts that you would keep something so important from me for so long,” she offered slowly.

Korra died a thousand deaths in the brief second it took for Sato to add: “But, yes, _all_ her members.”

Letting out a sob, Korra inquired, “Then why go through with the charade at all?”

Korra had found the courage to watch her closely now, and Asami appeared thoughtful.

“I know you and how you put so much responsibility on your shoulders,” Sato explained. “You were always going to have a hard time forgiving yourself for how this played out. If you didn’t _know_ your friends had forgiven you? Well, you never would have done it, so I had to prove it to you.”

Asami looked away, but continued more softly. “I also had to prove something to myself. I didn’t want to doubt your trust for me, didn’t want to think that maybe you didn’t care about me. And I had to prove, _prove_ that you were the person I thought you to be.”

Now Korra knew why Asami had averted her eyes; there were tears in them.

“I couldn’t lose faith in you and my father in the same day,” she cried.

Asami’s last remnants of composure vanished. When the dam broke, there was but one emotion that flooded away all the others, and it was a shattering, stabbing pain that led to Sato collapsing into Korra’s arms.

Sato whimpered Korra’s name, and Korra hushed her. They had talked enough for now.

She wept for so long, Asami fell asleep next to Korra, and when they woke the next morning, Sato—despite being the taller woman—found her head tucked under Korra’s chin.

Looking down at them both, she realized this was because she had curled up into a ball, while Korra had only curved enough to allow Asami to nestle into her. She also realized that, because she had worn herself out crying, Korra had, unusually, woken up before her, and was examining her with her bright blue eyes.

There was a smile in those eyes, but outside of that, she seemed serious and—quite frankly—more than a little nervous.

“Sami?” she essayed.

“Mmmm,” replied Sato, her voice still thick with sleep.

“I promised you no more secrets, so there’s something else I need to tell you.”

True to her word, Asami had faith in the woman holding her. Korra’s words raised no alarm. Indeed, Asami’s response to them was to snuggle closer. 

“What is it, Korra?”

“I think,” Korra said, “that I may have fallen a little bit in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, appreciate the kudos and bookmarks and comments and all the other ways you've interacted with this story. The ladies are in a fairly good place now, but this piece isn't done yet. 
> 
> I think, other than to thank you again, and note that 1) Korra's first attempt to hug Toph never goes well and 2) "I couldn't lose..." is indeed an homage to the speech in the series finale, I'm going to let this chapter stand on its own as opposed to adding copious notes. 
> 
> I will happily respond to questions/ideas/compliments/whatever in the comments, however!


	21. Mapping Out Their Course

_“I think,” Korra said, “that I may have fallen a little bit in love with you.”_

Asami responded in a stern voice, “Korra, you promised to be _completely_ honest.”

Her tone may have been steely, but her expression was still kind, and—even more tellingly—she remained huddled close.

For those reasons, Korra suspected that she was being teased. Even so, she was nervous. No, she was outright scared. She had been ever since the confession had spilled from her lips.

“I am,” she insisted, willing to walk into whatever verbal trap Asami was setting for her.

“Well, in that case,” Sato smiled, reaching up to brush some chestnut-colored hair back from Korra’s forehead, “I think I may perhaps be a very slight bit in love with you, too…possibly.”

Ah, so that was it. Asami was kidding her for having been uncharacteristically understated.

“But are you almost certain about that?” asked Korra, ribbing her right back.

First, Asami play-acted at needing to give this serious consideration, then she delivered in a deadpanned monotone, “More likely than not.”

“Really?” Korra lifted the blanket they were laying on top of. “Because it sure seems like you were planning on sleeping with me last night…And, oh, spirits! I did not mean for that to come out that way.”

She scooted away from Asami, and covered her face with her hands. Double entendres—intentional, or not—were even more mortifying for Korra now than before she’d admitted her feelings.

Fortunately for her, though, Asami’s unflappable nature had not changed. She laughed, and pulled Korra’s hands down.

“I honestly wasn’t planning on it,” she said. “We’re about a week out from Republic City, and it’s important I stay on top of things, so I was just going to sleep on the deck until we arrived…when I’m able to sleep, that is. Tenzin and Mako are splitting the first few days of piloting the _Avatar_. I’m handling the last 48 hours when we’re in the most dangerous waters.”

Korra didn’t register that Sato hadn’t let go of her hands until Asami gave them a squeeze.

Then something else dawned on her. “You really love me?” Korra asked.

“I really love you,” affirmed Sato. She was smitten by how adorable Korra looked as her words from earlier finally sunk it, but losing a little bit of her smile, Asami added. “Maybe if I’d told you that sooner, you would have been more willing to open up to me.”

“Don’t.” Korra returned the squeeze Sato had given her moments before. “Don’t blame yourself for my mistakes.”

“You’ll still need punished for that.” Asami was reminding herself as much as Korra about this. “I don’t know exactly what it will be yet, but…”

She struggled with the rest of the thought. 

“It’s all right, Asami,” Korra assured her. She turtled her head between her shoulders, and began a thorough examination of everything in the room that wasn’t round, bright green, and staring right through her. “Whatever you decide will be the right decision. And whatever you decide? I’ll deserve it.”

“True.”

Korra freed her hands to pluck at the blanket.

"But you also deserve this…” Asami pressed a kiss, lingering, soft and warm, to her temple.

Trying to focus on nothing, but absorbing all the affection that the gesture had conveyed, Korra had closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she noticed that Sato appeared amused.

“You...are allowed to smile, you know,” she said

Knowing she should share the reason why she was trying so hard to suppress a grin, Korra offered, “It just doesn’t feel right. I let you down, and here you are making me really, r-e-a-l-l-y happy.”

She wasn’t trying to illustrate the point; in that moment, though, she was completely unable to suppress the giddy laugh that bubbled up within her. 

Asami laughed, too. “Are you saying it would be easier if I was mean? I can give you a real tongue-lashing if it would help.”

Korra went silent instantly. Her eyes widened a bit, and she stammered, “That wa…I mean, I’m not…”

“Oh.” Sato blushed and laughed even harder. “Yeah, I just heard how that sounded. Come on. I think we both need something to eat.” 

It was true. Korra, especially, as she hadn’t had a bite in more than 24 hours.

When they reached the cell door, Korra paused. “Are you sure I can leave?”

Sato took her hand and led her out. “I’m sure.”

The pair made their way to the mess hall. They mostly focused on their food, but every once in a while, they would pause just to smile at each other, their happiness breaking through uncontrollably at odd moments.

“I know what you mean,” said Asami at one such point. “You know? About feeling like our timing is off, and how it’s not right to be happy right now.” She leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “But I can’t seem to bring myself to care.”

As it turned out, it was a good thing that she had lowered her voice, otherwise Opal would have heard her, given that she was currently sauntering over to join them.

“May I?”

“Of course.” Sato gestured to an empty space that Opal obligingly occupied. She ended up next to Korra and across from the Captain, to whom she was keen to speak.

“I wanted to thank you for the cabin. That was very kind of you.”

Asami conveyed her own gratitude. “You and Bolin were the first to stand up for Korra. It’s the least I could do.”

“Yeah, I have no idea how I’m going to repay you,” Korra added, addressing Opal. This was also the first she had learned of her eviction, though, so she followed up with Asami. “And no idea where I’m supposed to sleep. Unless you were going to sentence me to the isolation cell again?”

It was an honest question, not an accusation.

“You can sleep there, or join me on deck, or take Opal’s spot with Toph.”

“You definitely want to sleep with Asami,” announced Opal.

Korra tried, unsuccessfully, not to choke on a piece of salt pork.

Patting her repeatedly and firmly on the back, Opal asked if Korra was all right, before returning to her original thought. “It’s just Toph really snores.”

Still trying to clear her throat, Korra hacked, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It just so happened that Korra was then overwhelmed by another wave of happiness. In lieu of containing it, she embraced Opal in a tight, friendly hug. “Thanks, again.”

Unprepared for such enthusiasm, Opal muttered. “Um-kay.” However, it was impossible not to be affected by Korra’s joy, especially for someone so naturally empathetic. “I am glad you weren’t whipped,” she continued.

As she unwound herself from Korra, Opal playfully stuck her tongue out at Asami.

Sato crossed her arms. “Yeah, it’s pretty clear I’ve let discipline slip.”

Even as a joke, it caused Opal to wilt, and she excused herself, telling the Captain she needed to go help Bolin mend the sails.

“So you let them share the captain’s quarters?” Korra inquired as soon as Opal was out of earshot.

Asami shrugged.

“I had no idea you were such a romantic,” Korra observed. “That’s good to know.”

Sato winked, flipping her hair as she started to walk away, and Korra followed along, like Asami had her on a string.

They went to the wardroom, where the charts and maps needed to get them to Republic City were now being kept.

“We should be fine,” Asami said drawing her finger along the route she hoped to take, “at least until we get to this point. Right here, we’ll have to swing wide in order to avoid the navy and some of the shallowest waters. If the _Future_ …” She gritted her teeth. “If my Dad takes a more direct line, he’ll catch up with us here.” She lifted her finger up and brought it back down on that particular spot for emphasis.

Having caught Korra up on her plans, the two women went about making sure the _Avatar_ was in as good a possible condition as she could be. They inventoried all the supplies twice. Three times they made sure the cannons were ready to fire. They checked their progress against the maps so much that Korra could have sworn she saw lines of latitude and longitude when she looked out over the horizon.

At the end of the day, Korra suggested sparring, because there was no reason they shouldn’t be as shipshape as the ship itself.

She hadn’t taken into account the change in their relationship. After a day of preparing for the possibility of facing the _HMS Future_ , she was so super focused on the goal of being ready for Hiroshi, that when she proposed the session, she hadn’t considered how it might be even more awkward than before.

In fact, through the first few minutes of their skirmish, that thought did not occur to her. The first moment it did was when she captured the wrist of Asami’s sword hand, stilling her weapon, and requiring her to lean back to duck the swing of Korra’s sword, since she wasn’t able to block it.

Sato broke Korra’s hold by bringing her arm in close to her body, forcing Korra to dip, twist, and release her in order to maintain balance.

To try to catch Korra while she was still righting herself, Asami brought her sword up quickly. However, Korra did the same, and they ended up mere inches apart with blades crossed. For the melee to continue, all it would have required was for one woman to push the other away, and yet they both seemed to have lost the desire to do so.

“This seems like a draw,” observed Korra quietly, and Asami knew what was coming before the words were said. “Best two-out-of-three?”

“Best two-out-of-three,” Sato agreed, even though it pained her to do so.

Korra’s lips had been right there, after all. It would have been so easy for Asami to lean over and taste them, and from the way the Southern Tribeswoman had been hanging on her all day, Asami doubted she would have objected.

On the other hand, Korra had been keeping things from her. It had been possible to forgive her, because Korra had never pretended to be anyone, but who she was. Her heart had been open the entire time they had known each other. What she had concealed from Asami were—well, Asami considered them details, but those details were important.

And so it was that Asami worried about Korra hiding her desires from her, afraid to tell her what she wanted. She couldn’t let someone as giving as Korra sublimate her wishes for another. She couldn’t let someone so inexperienced and innocent be ashamed of her longings.

Asami, ever the planner, mapped out the course in her mind. If she wanted Korra to at least sometimes take the initiative, it would have to be a part of their relationship from the start.

All of which meant that they continued sparring, and Korra easily defeated a distracted Sato twice in succession.

“So I guess we should call it a night, huh?” hazarded Asami.

Korra seemed bashful. “Guess so…Is there somewhere specific you wanted me to sleep now?”

“Come on.” Asami tilted her head to indicate a direction.

“To the isolation cell?” Korra inquired. “That name is a little ironic now.”

For all the tongue-tied, red-faced moments she’d had even talking about sleeping with the Captain earlier in the day, the reality of actually lying next to her was much less disconcerting. They’d shared a bed before, and Sato made it so easy, holding up the blanket for Korra to crawl under after they’d put it back on the cot.

“Asami?” ventured Korra once they’d gotten settled. “You said the _Avatar_ is about balance, right?”

Sato didn’t see where this was going, but confirmed it.

Speaking quietly while looking at the ceiling, Korra asked, “Doesn’t mercy tilt the scales toward the person who did wrong and away from the person who was wronged?”

“That’s not how I look at it,” answered Asami. She had been facing the wall, but now rolled over to examine Korra. “In fact, I think maybe mercy is necessary for balance. Mercy to me means someone taking ownership of their pain, and taking the power back from the person who wronged them.”

Korra hummed in thought, and Sato sighed contentedly. She had recognized this attraction for a while now, but Korra was especially gorgeous with such a serious expression on her face.

The Captain was a woman of rules, but decided her own self-imposed rule deserved an exception. She would be the one to take initiative here.

Wrapping her arm around Korra’s waist, she asked, “Is this okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Korra replied. _It's more than okay_ , she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to say that I wanted to buy all the folks who shared comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, etc. flowers. Now I also wish we could all go out to tea so I could tell you in person how grateful I am. Thank you so very much. 
> 
> Here's some fluff to show my gratitude. 
> 
> They're not as direct as some of my previous tributes to the television program, but here are the callbacks from this installment: Asami's sarcasm is meant to reflect the scene from the show where she teased Korra about Mako. The hair flip is the hair flip. And the moment they shared during their sparring made me think of the moment they shared in Asami's office trailer during Turf Wars. 
> 
> I really mean it, guys. I would have quit by now without your support.


	22. Getting to Know You, Part II

At dawn, Korra woke with the warm weight of Asami’s arm still across her waist. She smiled into her pillow as she felt her heart flutter.

She cursed the moment she sensed Sato start stirring, because she had really hoped she could linger like this a little longer. Seeking to convey that, she twined her fingers into the hand curled under her hip.

Eventually, Asami murmured something that Korra could not make out, but felt the vibration of through the cot.

“What was that?” asked Korra.

“I said, ‘Good morning,’” Asami crooned into her neck.

Korra returned the sentiment, privately thinking it was the best morning she had, had in a while. Perhaps ever.

They set about preparing for their day. Then they set about their work. However, there were only so many times Korra and Asami could check inventory, inspect weapons, and review the readiness of the ship.

By late afternoon, even the redundancies had become redundant.

“Korra?” Asami said. “It seems like we have some time on our hands.”

Nodding her agreement, Korra waited for Sato to finish what had sounded like the start of a suggestion.

Actually, what Asami had was a question.

“Would you…maybe consider going on a date with me? I’d like to take you out since we’re not busy.”

When Sato couldn’t read Korra’s reaction, she panicked. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. Just, say, a nice, romantic dinner in the wardroom? Tonight or tomorrow night? Or if you have something else you’d rather do…”

The fact that the usually composed Sato was teetering on the edge on the breakdown, and that _she_ herself was the cause of it? Korra could scarcely bare it. She broke into the widest and goofiest of grins. As much as she would have loved to have continued witnessing these cracks in Asami’s aplomb, she decided mercy was a kinder course.

“Sounds perfect!” she assured her.

“Oh, good.” Asami’s relief was palpable, and her body relaxed into its usual posture that was all grace and poise and elegance. “I’ll go organize the maps, so we have more space to eat.”

Korra watched Asami walk away, until the Captain was no longer visible and had completely disappeared from sight.

And now it was Korra who had time to panic. What should she do…what _could_ she even do to prepare for their date? She went back to the isolation cell and pondered the question. She eventually cleaned her boots and dusted off her breeches and doublet. She ran her fingers through her hair to brush it.

“Care to use this?” Asami had returned, apparently thinking along the same lines, because she’d brought a comb from the captain’s cabin.

“Thanks.” Korra assumed Asami had already fixed her hair, as it looked as gorgeous as ever, yet when she handed the comb back, Sato ran it through her inky black locks.

She had changed into cleaner clothes, too, so Korra felt at a disadvantage. However, even as she lamented this, Asami observed, “You look beautiful.”

“And you look…” Korra paused, looking for the right word. “Snazzy as always.”

Sato bit her lower lip, all too clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

Gesturing at her from head to toe, Korra tried to make amends. “Spirits, Asami! I mean, just look at you.”

As humble as she was, Asami knew she was pretty—or at least that others found her to be. It would have been impossible to ignore all the compliments, not to mention the way that numerous men, and also a few women behaved around her. It never meant much to her.

The fact that Korra regarded her that way, however, was a source of delight she would have had a hard time putting into words. Indeed, she didn’t say anything now, but took Korra’s hand and clasped it.

This caused a heat to rise in Korra’s cheeks, and to cover her embarrassment, she suggested they make their way to the wardroom.

When they arrived there, Korra realized she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Almost everything she knew about courtship, she had learned from books, and those books certainly didn’t discuss relationships like Asami’s and hers.

She did think of something she remembered seeing her parents do, and pulled out a chair for Asami to sit in…only to look over at Sato doing the same.

For a moment, she feared she had made a mistake, but Asami’s laughter put her at ease. Sato pushed in the chair she was standing behind, and graciously accepted the one Korra had secured for her.

Finally, placing herself across from Asami, she realized that the Captain had not only cleared the maps out of the way earlier, she had also acquired and lit two candles, while placing their meals on the table. The decisiveness and efficiency with which she must have prepared for the evening made Korra even more ashamed of her own unsure tentativeness.

It didn’t help that she knew she was being stared at.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I just think I’m very lucky,” Asami answered.

A bit uncertain as to what about her should inspire such a feeling, Korra responded, “I wish I could have dressed up a little more for you.”

“I guess, as the daughter of the chief, you probably had a lot of formal attire back home, huh?”

Asami actually knew a lot about Korra’s childhood and family, despite the fact that the Southern Tribeswoman had studiously avoided the specifics. _Details_ , Sato reminded herself. _Important details._

Those details occupied much of the conversation while they ate.

Yes, Korra had grown up privileged in many ways. The Tundra could be (and on many occasions was) unforgiving, but her family was relatively wealthy and powerful.

Like Asami, Korra had been isolated. Her mother, named Senna, and her father were warm and loving. Simultaneously, they understood the importance of duty and stressed that to their daughter, whose duty it was to become a soldier worthy of her forebear’s honor.

If anything, Korra’s education had been _more_ insular than Sato’s. The crews of the ships Hiroshi took his daughter on were not nearly as diverse as that of the _Avatar_ , but they still presented more variety in the kinds of people Asami met than in the academies where Korra trained.

Another thing they had in common was they were both talented pupils. Korra proved as naturally gifted with a sword as Asami at sailing, but fighting—unlike work in the navy—was more about domination than cooperation, so while Asami had developed quiet confidence, Korra grew up to be quite brash.

A part of that brashness was an emotional honesty that bordered on artlessness. She didn’t need tact, so she didn’t develop it. On the other hand, with no real need to wall herself off, she rarely did so.

She’d always cared about others, cared about them deeply. Even if it hadn’t been an elemental part of her being, it was an essential part of her training: a warrior was only as good as the cause for which they were fighting.

It was perhaps ironic that she took this to mean she should fight for love. True, she loved and respected her instructors. She loved her family more than she would have thought possible, with maybe the exception of a couple weird cousins. For all this, she had never been _in_ love…not until, of course, she’d met the woman sitting across from her.

Contemplating that, Korra recalled an earlier conversation she’d had with Asami. “You once told me you wouldn’t have dated Mako if you loved him,” she pointed out in a voice so low it was barely audible. She rubbed the back of her neck, making Sato wonder how long this particular thought had troubled her.

“It’s true,” answered Asami. “I didn’t think I could be captain if I fell for a member of the crew.” She reached over their now long-empty plates, offering both her hands, palms up, for Korra to take. Korra did so.

“But you’ve made me a better, more confident captain.”

“I…what?” After blushing a second, Korra tried to regain her usual form. “I mean, of course I did, but, uh, how exactly?”

It was such a precious response, and it was so perfectly Korra.

“Let’s take a stroll on deck,” Asami proposed. She stood up and smiled, offering the Southern Tribeswoman the crook of her elbow, but Korra interlaced their fingers instead.

When they emerged topside, Korra inhaled a lungful of the night air. It was an exceptionally clear night, and the moon was nearly full.

“Since I’ve met you,” Sato continued thoughtfully, “I’ve changed. I’m a better captain, because I’m a better person. I don’t worry about treating you differently than the other crew members, because you make me want to be _more_ just, _more_ noble, _more_ like kind the person you deserve to be with. Also, I know that whether we dated, or not, I’d still have these feelings for you, and it wouldn’t be honorable for me to deny that, or hide from it. So this…” She gestured between the two of them. “Isn’t what I had with Mako.”

“You think Mako is going to have a hard time? Seeing you with…someone else?” Korra’s tone implied what she had not said directly: Not only was Asami dating someone new, but that someone was a woman.

“Listen, Korra, I’m not embarrassed, or ashamed to be with you at all,” Asami assured her. “If you wanted to tell the world about us, I’d be right behind you. But there’s a selfish part of me that wants you all to myself…at least for a little while longer.”

“What about not hiding from the truth?” Korra wished she could shout how she felt about Sato from the crow’s nest, but this wasn’t an effort to lobby for that. She was honestly curious.

Asami smiled mischievously. “Well, I guess I’ll create an exception. Two exceptions, actually. One for secrets about us…and another for earth-shattering secrets about our fathers.”

There was no malice to the joke. Indeed, the fact that it was a joke—that Asami was able to jest about this—was what finally allowed Korra to release all the guilt she felt about it. Finally.

She sighed her relief, and noticed for the first time that they weren’t quite alone. Tenzin waved to her from his spot at the helm on the quarterdeck.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re going to be behind the wheel for 48 hours straight,” mused Korra. “That sounds awful. No matter the weather? Not being able to rest. Ugh!”

“Korra, you’re brilliant!” Asami exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Of course, I am. But how exactly?”

“That’s how I’ll punish you!” said Sato. “You’ll be clapped in irons on the deck for the last 48 hours of our journey into Republic City.”

“My punishment will be…to spend time with you?”

“You did say whatever I came up with, you’d deserve it.”

Asami let her hands fall down Korra’s arms. She stepped forward, making it impossible to move any closer without colliding.

“It’s getting late,” Korra offered softly. “We should go back to the cell.”

Sato affirmed it, but closed her eyes in frustration the moment Korra turned away. Oh, how she had hoped Korra was going to kiss her.

Her frustration mounted when they laid down on the cot, and Korra did not hold her, nor ask to be held.

They remained there in silence until Korra spoke very gently. “I wanted to tell you this before, but I was a little bit overwhelmed. You’ve made me a better person, too.” She turned toward the Captain. “I used to more stubborn than I am now. I was convinced I could do everything on my own. I had more of a temper. I never planned anything out more than two seconds in advance…I guess what I’m saying is, I’ve become a better person, because I’ve become more like you.”

“Thank you, Korra,” whispered Sato. She turned away, so that the swordswoman wouldn’t see the tear in her eye, or the smile on her face.

Korra responded by wrapping her arm about Asami’s waist. “Is this okay?”

What Asami said? “Sure.”

What she thought? _If I knew the word in every language that ever was, is, or at any point will be spoken, I would still run out of ways to tell you how adorable you are right now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you for every kind comment, kudos, subscription, bookmark...Just every time and every way you interact with this story means so much to me. As a first-time fan fiction writer, I'm still feeling my way along. I'm still figuring out if you guys like fluff, or action, or angst, or some combination thereof. So the feedback is invaluable. 
> 
> This chapter is obviously fluff (hopefully not too fluffy!), but there are a couple historical notes: 1) Navy vessels would have indeed had crews that were less diverse than privateer/pirate ships. 2) Depending on exactly when you want to date this story, it's possible the candles would have been made of beeswax or tallow, and that means they would have been dimmer than our modern candles. (Mood lighting for our girls!) 3) And I did not pull Korra's punishment right out of my Asami. Clapping a sailor in irons and leaving them on deck was indeed one way in which sailors were disciplined. 
> 
> There are also obviously a lot of callbacks to the television series. "Sounds perfect" is definitely a nod to the finale. Asami's speech about wanting to keep their relationship private for now is almost word-for-word what she told Korra in "Turf Wars." In "Turf Wars" and "An Avatar's Chronicle" (basically every time I could find in canon that Asami asked Korra on a date), she referred to a "romantic" evening. 
> 
> And then there's the famous description of Asami as "snazzy."
> 
> So a note about that? I figure if you're writing a story about balance, it helps to have balance in your writing. Not only is Korra struggling to tell Asami how beautiful she finds her an homage to the TV show, it's also an inverse to the previous chapter "Getting to Know You," where Asami muted her similar compliment to Korra to avoid saying too much. 
> 
> And the description of Korra's upbringing is 313 words, exactly the same length of the description of Asami growing up from the first "Getting to Know You" chapter. 
> 
> That might seem too precious? This whole chapter might. That's why I want to thank you again for your patience and input. You really are the best.


	23. Bracing for Battle

The next few days passed very similarly. Korra and Asami would do as much as they could to prepare for the challenges they believed were ahead, but that would still leave them with at least some time to enjoy each other’s company.

Asami might have enjoyed it more if Korra had been attuned to what Sato was trying to will her to understand. The Captain kept trying harder and harder to let Korra know that a kiss would not be unwelcome.

She scheduled sparring sessions. She made sure there were times they would “coincidentally” find themselves alone. She gave frequent compliments and pulled off an impressive number of romantic gestures given the limitations of life at sea.

About the only thing she didn’t do was put her desire into words, because things between them were new, and she didn’t want to put pressure on Korra.

That being said, they continued to hold one another at night. The evening after their date, Asami demurely asked if Korra wanted to cuddle again; and then the next night, Korra simply assumed it was her turn to be the big spoon. (Although it wasn’t such a strong presumption that she didn’t ask permission first.) A comfortable—well, more than comfortable—pattern having been established, they made a tacit agreement about alternating. 

With two days remaining in their journey, Asami was ready to assume her place behind the wheel, but not before she first put the manacles and chains on Korra that her punishment required.

“It’s not supposed to be comfortable,” Sato said apologetically.

“I’m fine, Captain,” promised Korra. “The worst part about this is we had to be up at the first bell. Mornings are eeeeeeevil.”

She sat down on a nearby crate, while Asami navigated.

“So, if your math is right…”

“My math is always right,” Sato interrupted, but not without a smile.

Korra smiled back. Her thought, however, was serious. “And if your father takes the path you expect him to, we’ll run into him in about 12 hours, correct?”

“Yes.” Asami and Korra had gone over the map together so many times that both were well acquainted with their timetable, and Sato knew Korra’s remark had to be a preface for something more. 

“Have you thought about what we’ll do if that happens?”

This was actually the first time they’d broached that subject, even though it had been front of mind for both ladies for a while now.

“I don’t think he’ll leave us much choice, Korra.”

Korra bit her lower lip. She was working up the courage to share her concern.

“He trained you?” she finally asked. “And you trained Mako?”

Sato confirmed it.

Shifting her weight slightly, Korra pointed out this meant Hiroshi would know exactly what to expect in an encounter with the _Avatar_.

It was a good point, but one the swordswoman was unlikely to have brought up if she didn’t have an idea on how to deal with it. “So what are you thinking?” pressed Asami.

“You’re not going to like it, but remember when you told me I had the right to name a new captain?”

It took Korra a few minutes to explain her idea, but when she did Sato smiled. “You’re right, I don’t like it.”

Korra’s arched eyebrow was enough to convey her next thought.

“So why am I smiling?” asked Asami, actually articulating it, and Korra nodded.

“Because it’s still a brilliant idea, and because you’re right…You really are becoming more of a planner.”

It was nice being able to spend time with Asami, but the Captain really wasn’t kidding about this being punishment, Korra thought. Not able to get out of the sun, not able to relax or rest, the weight of the metal wrapped around her wrists? It would have been insufferable without Sato there.

Likewise, Asami benefited from Korra’s presence, perhaps never more than a moment when she observed the young Southern Tribeswoman appearing pensive.

“You’re thinking again,” Sato pointed out.

“I’m just wondering,” responded Korra. “But it’s none of my business, and I don’t want to pry.”

Asami took one hand off the wheel, and gave Korra as much of her attention as she could spare. “You can ask me anything, Korra.”

Stretching one leg out to grant some relief after being stationary so long, Korra inquired, “What was your mother like?”

There was a sudden catch in Sato’s throat that she attempted to swallow down. It had been a long time since her mother had been murdered. It still hit her at odd moments, but it seemed unlikely that this is what made her suddenly emotional. A pair of bright blue eyes eventually provided her with her answer: It was the first time she could recall someone showing this kind of interest in her mom.

“She was great,” Asami said, her voice hitching with feeling. “I wish I could remember more about her. I was only six. But she was warm and loving. She always kept fire lilies around the house, would dance to any music she heard…even if she knew someone was watching. She would always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to the servants. She had the best laugh, Korra, just the very best laugh.”

Korra got up from her crate. She couldn’t put her arms around Asami, but she rested a warm hand on her shoulder.

“You sound a lot like her,” noted Korra.

Responding to this with a compliment of her own, Asami replied, “She would have liked you a lot.”

The softness in her face disappeared, and her eyes darkened. “But would you like proof that I’m also my father’s daughter?”

Korra turned to see what it was that had caught Asami’s gaze; although, in truth, she could have guessed.

Sato’s lips were thinned in ire. “Dad is here six hours ahead of schedule.”

“Then we need to start working on the plan.” Korra held up her wrists pleadingly, with her arms shoulder-width apart.

When the unlocked chains hit the deck with a loud, metallic clang, Korra joked that she was looking forward to getting back into them. It was at least partially true. That would mean they had survived their run-in with Asami’s father.

Freed of her fetters, she ran to the brig.

“Kuvira?” she called. “How would you like to get out of here for a bit?”

By the time Korra had returned to where Sato was standing, Kuvira had been briefed. She knew exactly what they wanted from her. The question was whether she was willing to provide it.

Asami, arms crossed and jaw set in a way that made her face even more angular than usual, wanted an unambiguous answer that very second.

“I can help stop your father, while reducing risk to his crew,” Kuvira stated.

Sato probably would have found that more assuring if Kuvira had been more deferential, but the pride of the Earth Kingdom’s captain simply would not allow for it. Imperious as always, she looked over the bow to evaluate the _HMS Future_.

When she turned back around, she eyed the chains Korra had been so recently wearing. A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips.

“Bring down his mast,” said Kuvira. “It’s not as dangerous to the sailors as striking the hull, and it takes advantage of the fact that he’ll want to sail parallel to the _Avatar_ in order to have all his guns on you.”

“You want me to use chain shot.” It was not a question. Asami knew what Kuvira’s suggestion required, and her analytical mind was immediately calculating the odds of success. Sato registered a couple concerns fairly quickly.

“You have to get close to use it,” she pointed out.

“The _Avatar_ is large enough and strong enough to survive a broadside, but the _Future_ cannot continue the fight if she can’t sail after you,” countered Kuvira.

Korra thought she might have to step in when she saw the stormy look that came over Sato.

“I’m less concerned about the ship than I am about the sailors manning the cannons,” she said icily, prompting Korra to take two steps forward in case she needed to intervene.

“Then put me on one of those cannons,” Kuvira responded.

It was Korra who found her voice first. “You…you’re volunteering for _the_ most dangerous assignment?” 

Kuvira, stone faced, merely shrugged.

“You’re not a member of this crew. Why would you do that?” pressed Asami.

“I understand wanting to keep the people you care about safe,” Kuvira offered. Her eyes flicked briefly to Korra, and Korra wondered how broken the woman had been by thinking she had drowned.

Not wanting to admit she was impressed, Asami nodded. “Mako! Bolin! Opal!” she called.

Bolin arrived on the quarterdeck only seconds before the others. “Yes, Captain…Err, make that Captains?”

“What’s she doing here?” demanded Mako.

Asami was not surprised or offended that Mako would be upset. “Loaning us her perspective,” she explained. “With her Earth Kingdom training, she was more likely to come up with something that might surprise my father.”

Mako persevered in his skepticism. “And what is she proposing?”

“Chain shot,” Kuvira interjected.

Opal raised her hand, causing everyone to turn their attention to her. She wavered slightly, only now realizing that she’d just made her ignorance the focus of all gathered.

“Umm…Chain shot?” she ventured.

Rather than clarify, Asami smiled gently at Bolin, encouraging him to be the one to tell her.

“It’s two small cannon balls with a chain in between them,” he said. “It rotates when fired, so it covers more area than a single 30-pound cannon ball, and takes out masts and rigging. But because it rotates, it’s less accurate, and you have to be near your target to use it.”

Sato brought up a possibility that distressed her. “It’s also not risk-free for the _HMS Future_. If the mast falls, it could crush anyone under it.”

Despite this, not to mention his earlier stubbornness, Mako seemed like the first to start warming to Kuvira’s plan. He even added his own wrinkle. “They haven’t left us much choice, Captain, and we could shield ourselves for the first volley before firing our cannons.”

Sighing, Asami conceded Mako’s point. “But I’m going to try one last time to resolve this peacefully. Opal?”

“Me?”

“Yes, please.”

“What do you need, Captain?”

Sato directed the young woman to go to where they kept their flags, instructing her to find a blue one with a white wave on it and a red one that included an emblem that looked like a gear. When Opal returned, she requested that she run them up the flag pole. “We’re going to send them a message,” Asami noted.

“What’s the message?” wondered Opal.

“Well, my father may have changed the Republic City flag code, but this used to mean ‘no enemies in the area.’”

“Are you sure it doesn’t currently mean ‘You’re an ugly, dimwitted weasel snake?’”

“Opal…” It was one word, but in it there was a command, a warning…and an appreciation of Opal’s humor.

“We’re on it, Captain,” Bolin said placatingly as he grabbed Opal’s elbow.

Mako, meanwhile, went to alert the crew that they needed to load the cannons with chain shot.

Korra and Kuvira scurried to find barrels of water and anything else the crew could use to protect themselves, as Mako had proposed. This left Asami to chart a path that would allow them to pull alongside the Future, while losing as little speed in the process as possible.

She would remain at the helm during the confrontation, one which now seemed quite inevitable, because the _Future_ wasn’t responding to their message with a semaphore communique of their own.

Korra could practically see how much this weighed on Sato when she returned. “I’m sorry, Sami,” she whispered.

“It has to be done,” mourned Sato. “I’m just sorry my father is putting everyone in danger.”

This made Korra uncomfortable, as she knew Asami wouldn’t like what she had to say. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Kuvira, so I’m going to be on her cannon crew,” she informed her.

“Who’s your third?” Asami asked, to which Korra responded that Tenzin was joining them.

After taking a deep breath, Sato offered a gentle, “Be safe.”

Korra started to head off to the cannon, but turned around briskly. She smashed her lips to Asami’s, who was so startled, she barely had time to return the kiss.

“You, too,” said Korra.

She jogged to where Kuvira and Tenzin were waiting, crouched behind several barrels of water. For her own protection, Korra had picked up a Water Tribe shield that once served as decoration on the wall of the captain’s quarters. Looking to her right at yet another cannon, Korra saw Bolin, Mako, and Opal.

“She’s joined the Fire Ferrets!” Bolin enthused, pointing at his girlfriend.

Minutes later, even though they remained hidden, they knew that the _HMS Future_ had pulled alongside their ship. The light had changed as it was filtered through her sails. The sound of the lapping waves was no longer even.

As much as they had already braced themselves, every sailor gritted their teeth even more at this moment.

“Guess we’re about to see if the _Avatar_ can take a punch,” Kuvira said.

Korra would have answered, but was drowned out by a large booming explosion. It felt and sounded as if they were in the middle of a thunderclap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know this probably sounds repetitive by now, but I am really grateful if you have chosen to read this story. And if you have been so kind as to leave kudos? Just know I do a little dance every time that happens. In addition, I have met just the nicest people through their comments. 
> 
> Historical notes on this chapter? Fortunately, due to landlubber Opal, I was already able to explain what chain shot was. I should note there were also other kinds of cannon projectiles including: bar shot (similar to chain shot, but with a--you guessed it--metal bar), grapeshot (it would break into lots of small pieces to spread destruction), spider shot (chain shot with multiple chains), carcass (which would carry a flammable material). 
> 
> By the way, it is thought that carcass may have been named for the medieval practice of firing dead animals at enemies in a very early form of biological warfare. Ick. 
> 
> We still use the word broadside today, but this is how it was originally used. A ship would fire its entire battery from the side of the ship facing the opponent all at once in order to make up for the fact that early cannons weren't very accurate and didn't actually possess much punch. 
> 
> I discussed semaphore (flag code) at the end of chapter 17, but I'll add one additional observation. Flags used to communicate were and remain, very simple designs--even simpler than the ones used by the Avatar. (Those specific designs *probably* don't mean anything today, and almost certainly not, "You're an ugly, dimwitted weasel snake.")
> 
> There are some more callbacks to LOK canon, for instance, that Kuvira now has a cannon. ;) She's out of her prison cell and has volunteered for a dangerous assignment as she did in Ruins of the Empire, and Korra is musing over how broken Kuvira's near-death experience might have left her. (Broken is the actual word Korra uses in the comic.)
> 
> I made the mistake of reading some other Legend of Korra fan fiction, and my gosh! It is so good. Admittedly, it hasn't been great for my ego. I am humbled by you all. Thanks again for welcoming me into your ranks.


	24. Under the Gun

Korra’s five senses were overwhelmed. She inhaled smoke, and it left an ashy taste in her mouth. It also made her eyes burn and dominated what she could see. She could smell the sulfuric odor of black powder. The entire boat was rocking. She not only felt that, but it tested her balance.

It was the noise, however, that disoriented her. The volume was so loud, that one sound bled into another and into another, until she could no longer distinguish being the echoes of cannon fire, the shouting of the crew, the shards of wood falling to the deck, the wind, the waves, and the calling of her own name.

It was all one cacophonous roar.

“Korra!”

She finally was able to make out Tenzin’s voice.

“I’m all right,” she reassured him. _But is Asami okay?_ she wondered. A sick, sinking feeling hit her as Korra realized she could not now check on the Captain. After all, Mako was already trying to organize the _Avatar_ fusillade, and Kuvira appeared to be lining up a target.

Something about that didn’t look right, though. Korra squinted. Through the haze, she could make out that the cannon was too low for Kuvira to be aiming at the mast.

“What are you doing?” demanded Korra.

“Their captain is on deck,” Kuvira stated. “We can end this now.”

“No!” Choosing her words very carefully, Korra tried to talk Kuvira out of a reckless decision. “He’s made a lot of mistakes. He’s practically drowning in them, but thanks to your plan, it’s possible we can win this battle without killing anyone.”

Her features didn’t soften in the slightest bit, but there was a light of recognition in Kuvira’s eyes, as she raised the cannon to target the sails.

“Hurry up!” Mako was booming.

Korra rushed to grab and light a taper. Tenzin had fortunately taken care of almost everything else.

The cannon crews were reporting in, updating Mako regarding their readiness. How he could keep track of every gun with all the motion and yelling was beyond Korra; but he did, and he knew the second to give the order.

“FIRE!”

And for the second time in just a brief span, all noise blended into one pealing rumble for Korra. It practically vibrated through her.

She fully expected another explosion to follow, but instead it grew quieter and quieter. The sounds of the blast faded away, until all that remained was the harried activity of the _Avatar’s_ crew loading more chain shot for another potential barrage.

It eventually became impossible for those sailors to ignore the fact that the additional incoming fire they expected…wasn’t coming.

Korra’s heart raced through a series of emotions: first confused, then alarmed, then pleased, then confused again. She experienced so many feelings in so little time, it left her numb.

Like the others, she stopped what she was doing to figure out the cause of it. She realized they had succeeded in bringing down the _Future’s_ main mast. That, combined with Asami’s careful piloting and some fortunate winds, meant that they had mostly sailed out of range of another assault. If they fired now, they would only catch the _Avatar’s_ stern: the _Avatar’s_ stern, Korra realized, where Asami was standing at the helm.

“Mako, the Captain!” Korra cried.

Mako nodded, and it was all the permission Korra needed to race back to where Asami was.

She was fine. In fact, she was helping some injured sailors when Korra came upon her.

“We’re working to clear this part of the deck,” Sato informed the Southern Tribeswoman. “They haven’t fired again, but I don’t trust…”

That’s when the explosion Korra had been expecting finally hit, and with enough force that it sent a spasm through the whole ship.

Coughing debris and smoke out of her lungs, struggling to lift herself up, Korra assessed whether Asami was all right the first moment she was able to.

She was down on all fours, and coughing herself. When Sato finally raised her head, Korra noticed a cut or two, but otherwise she seemed physically okay. At the same time, Sato was as furious as Korra had ever seen her.

Both women were making an effort to stand, when they were sent sprawling. However, it wasn’t an explosion causing the ship to lurch this time.

It was Asami who filled in the blank.

“The rudder,” she seethed. “Since he couldn't sink us, he waited to fire to take out the rudder.” She stood, helped Korra to her feet, pulled at her waistcoat, and then issued a loud order. “All hands! Take down the sails! Take them down now!” She repeated the command several times to underline its importance.

She had a separate mission for Korra. “Go find Tenzin,” she said, after worriedly affirming that Korra herself wasn’t injured. “I want him to tend to the wounded. Tell him he can recruit a few sailors to assist him, but the priority is to get those sails down. We have to drop anchor. We can’t steer, and the _Future_ can’t move.”

A frenetic few minutes followed. There were crew members hustling to haul down the sails. Tenzin and his helpers were binding bleeding limbs, serving as human crutches, and ministering aid in whatever other ways they found necessary. There was no place to go if you wanted to escape the bustle.

Mako was assigned the job of making sure there was no other damage to the ship that put them in imminent danger. When he approached Asami, who was helping complete the task of lowering the sails, he confirmed that the biggest danger facing them at the moment was the fact that they were drifting perilously close to the _Future_ , and powerless to do anything about it.

They debated whether to lower the starboard or port anchor, before eventually agreeing that they should utilize both.

Once that happened, almost all the activity on board the _Avatar_ halted. However, lowering the anchors couldn’t bring the ship to an instant stop, so Korra watched from the railing to see if they would end up colliding with Hiroshi’s ship. Asami was next to her, seemingly unaware that she had latched on to Korra’s bicep.

They were joined by their friends, and all shared the very same helpless feeling.

The _Avatar_ approached the other vessel. They were close enough to hear the voices of the _Future’s_ crew, which was likewise lined up watching the potential of an impending crash. At least they weren’t readying for another salvo of cannon fire. It seemed like a parley might be possible…if both ships didn’t sink first.

Closer and closer they came. Only seconds before Asami was about to give the order to brace for impact, the _Avatar_ shuddered and ceased its forward progress.

“Spirits! That was close,” Korra breathed.

Seeming to realize for the first time that she had been holding on to Korra, Asami cleared her throat. “Arm yourselves to the teeth,” she instructed the group. “I’ll bring a small boarding party over to meet with my father, but while we’re going to negotiate in good faith, we shouldn’t assume he’ll do the same.”

Korra, Mako, Bolin, and Opal returned with their weapons. Asami had the blades with which she wished to fight, but she was also turning over a now-familiar knife in her hands and looking at it derisively.

“What do I do with this?” she asked Korra. The sadness practically spilled out of her green eyes.

“I’ll take it,” Korra said softly. “It’s been good luck for me.”

Instead of handing it to her, Asami sheathed it and tucked it into Korra’s waistband herself. 

“Let’s go,” ordered the Captain.

They lowered a gangplank and made their way to the deck of the _HMS Future_. There stood a man who had undoubtedly been handsome in his youth and remained more than debonair now. He was large, without being portly. He wore round, wired spectacles, and carried a pocket watch. His face was framed by a horseshoe mustache, and his salt and pepper hair had a similar quality to that of his daughter, in that it looked sharp when combed and tamed, but also incredible when mussed.

However, the way that Korra recognized him as Hiroshi Sato was the regal manner in which he carried himself. He seemed rather genial as well, which—given what she knew about him—frightened her.

“So you’re here for a parley?” he asked jovially.

Asami answered with a curt nod.

“You’re awfully well armed for just a talk,” countered Hiroshi, almost laughingly. “Why don’t you lay down all that heavy steel?”

Korra noticed Asami flex the fingers of her right hand. She kept her anger in check beyond that. 

“You first,” she insisted evenly.

It was such a fascinating study in contrasts. Hiroshi was feigning warmth to hide his coldness. Asami was a woman whose cool elegance sometimes masked her passion and warmth.

Hiroshi raised and lowered his hand with a palms-down gesure, signaling his crew. They not only lowered the swords they had been pointing at the privateers; they set them on the deck.

Asami indicated for her team to do the same. “Even the knives in your boots,” she ordered in a voice that undoubtedly sounded stern to the sailors of the _HMS Future_ , but came across as very deliberate to Korra. She put her sword aside, but covered the barely visible hilt of the knife in her waistband with her left arm.

Meanwhile, Mako and Bolin took their knives and threw them down, and Opal did the same…with a spatula.

Mako couldn’t restrain himself. “What is that?!”

“Fighting with cookware is my thing now,” she answered. “Besides, I haven’t trained with a knife yet.”

“It’s just…” Massaging his temples, Mako struggled for words. “It’s like a little sword.”

“I should have brought a potato,” sighed Bolin. “You know, if we’re going with themes.”

The veneer of charm Hiroshi had assumed earlier vanished. There was real menace in his voice when he confronted Asami.

“The part of this that hurts the most is seeing you traipse around with these bilge rats.” He pointed angrily at her friends.

And Asami? She smiled.

“They’re pretty great, aren’t they?”

Shifting his considerable weight from one foot to another, Hiroshi offered that they should continue their conversation in private.

Speaking clearly and very deliberately…and loudly enough for others to hear, Asami insisted, “Oh, no, I’m more than fine telling everyone here that _we did not betray Republic City_.”

“In private,” hissed Hiroshi “or this negotiation ends now.”

Asami crossed her arms. Clear she was not going to budge, Hiroshi finally made a concession.

“Fine,” he said. “We can both bring a second.” He beckoned to another sailor. 

“Mako,” apologized Asami at the same time, “you’re the best first mate a captain could have…”

Cutting her off before she could even finish the sentence, Mako volunteered, “Korra should go.”

And so it was that Korra and Asami made their way to Hiroshi’s quarters, worried about what surprises he may have in store for them there.

Whether they had cause to worry wasn’t immediately clear. Hiroshi’s room looked exactly what you’d expect from a Republic City admiral’s lodging. Like Asami, he seemed to accumulate clutter over the course of a journey, and the clutter was organized somehow. Korra had no doubt that—like her Captain—Hiroshi could find whatever he needed in a matter of moments. Unlike Asami, the décor he had added to his room was ostentatious, garish, cold.

The same could be said of the room’s occupant. He had completely dropped his pretense of pleasantness from earlier.

“Where is your knife?” he snarled. “How could you not use it against the people who stabbed your mother?”

“They never found the men who killed Mom,” countered Asami, and it was clear she still felt the pain of that.

“Yet you consort with their kind all the time!”

“Their kind? Listen to yourself! Not all pirates are the same, just as not all navy sailors are the same. You can’t lump them all together.” Asami didn’t need her knife to plunge a dagger in. “Mom wouldn’t have done that, and now you hate her killers far more than you ever loved her...or her daughter.”

“Enough!” Hiroshi slammed a closed fist down on the surface of the desk he was standing next to. He and his daughter were conversing as if Korra and the other sailor weren’t in the room, never more so than when the Admiral made what he, no doubt, considered a generous offer.

“I’ll give you one last chance,” he said. He pulled something from beneath a map. It looked to Korra like a tiny canon. “This is called a gun. It can fire a projectile through the air, through flesh. Abandon life as a privateer. Join the _Future_. Maybe, just maybe, I will let you live and won’t insist that your crew swing for their crimes.”

Hiroshi’s first mate pulled a gun of his own. He pointed it at Korra.

Asami stared at the weapon. The hurt in her green eyes was so great, it wounded Korra as well, and Korra wasn’t quite sure how Asami would respond.

“They haven’t committed any crimes,” she said quietly and defeatedly. “But if it will spare my friends the noose…”

She turned and hugged Korra. “I’m sorry,” whispered Asami. "I have to save you if I can." 

“Asami, no!” Korra’s emotion was real and deeply felt. It was what sold Hiroshi. However, he misread the moment. Korra had sensed Asami pull the knife from her waistband and knew she had hidden it in her sleeve.

Korra also knew that her Captain, her friend, her love was about to risk her own life, or put herself in a situation where she might have to end the life of her last surviving relative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't know how much it means to me, every time you leave a comment or kudos or bookmark. Thank you so much, friends! 
> 
> Some of my favorite commenters already have an incredible knowledge of sailing and piracy, but I will continue to start my recap with a few historical notes. Yes, pirate ships had two anchors...or more. There were tactical reasons to sometimes drop one, but dropping two would help the ship continue on a straight path and ensure that if one gave way, the other could still help the ship come to a stop. Also, yes, ships are supposed to come to a stop before dropping anchor. Finally, yes, parley was a truce within which two parties could negotiate. Hiroshi violates it pretty egregiously here. 
> 
> Hiroshi in the television show, regrets that Asami is hanging out with street rat, Mako. Bilge rat (a term that was genuinely used by sailors) would be the pirate's version of that. The bilge collected water from the deck, and it often grew putrid, so a rat in the bilge would be a very lowly animal indeed. 
> 
> You are certainly not a bilge rat. You are someone whose reading this has meant the world! Thank you, thank you, thank you!


	25. Father's Day

“I love you, Dad,” Asami said quietly.

Knowing what was about to happen, the confession broke Korra’s heart at the same time that Hiroshi was ironically heartened by it.

Asami moved closer, as if for an embrace. As soon as she was close enough that the gun Hiroshi had been holding on her was behind her, she pulled out the knife. Korra had seen her do this before, but was still amazed at how much of a blur the movement was.

“You wondered where I was keeping this?”

She held the blade to his neck. Hiroshi’s first mate responded by turning his attention (and his gun) from Korra to the _Avatar’s_ captain.

Korra spied her opening. She lowered herself and charged him, hitting him at the waist, wrapping her arms around him, and not just launching herself in his direction—but trying almost to run through him.

The fact that she kept her legs churning even after their collision meant that Korra carried the first mate right into a bookcase, and several tomes landed on the man’s head. He was unconscious before he even hit the floor, but not before there was a loud “BANG!”

Some slivers of wood and paint fell from the ceiling. Asami and Hiroshi looked up at the small hole above them. Korra also considered the damage as she bent down and picked up the weapon that had been dropped.

“It won’t fire again,” Hiroshi informed her. “It needs reloaded.”

Korra set it down on the desk, but—not trusting him—out of Hiroshi’s reach.

“Give me your tiny cannon,” she ordered him.

The Admiral didn’t think it advisable to move, given how Asami kept the knife on him, but he allowed Korra to take the gun from his hand without any resistance.

She was careful with it, not knowing how it worked. Korra had figured out, however, from having it pointed at her, which end was dangerous. She kept that end aimed at the floor.

“How do I…” Korra drifted off, but she had said enough that Hiroshi knew what was being asked.

“Move the frizzen forward, empty the pan, and uncock the hammer,” he instructed.

It sounded like a foreign language to Korra. “Do…what now?”

Without moving or even shifting her glance, Asami told Korra to grab a sword that was leaning up against the wall. She had obviously noticed it earlier, and while it shouldn’t have been surprising the amount of detail the Captain had taken in within seconds of entering the room, Korra was still impressed.

She didn’t need instruction on what to do with the sword. She turned it on Hiroshi, while Asami gently took the gun from her.

“Clever,” Asami mused, grudgingly impressed by its design. She turned it over and examined it from several different angles. Then she pointed it at her dad. “How many more of these are on board?”

“Only these two,” Hiroshi answered. “I just recently invented them.”

“And you said it tore through flesh. How did you test that?” she demanded.

Her face was blank. Korra recognized the expression, not as that of a woman who didn’t feel anything, but of one who—at that moment—felt too much. It was similar to the night Asami had confronted her.

Things had turned out then because, on some level, Asami had sensed Korra loved her. Would she feel the same from her dad?

Right now, he appeared unrepentant.

As for Asami? “You really are a horrible father,” she said, then directed Korra, “Go! After that ruckus, you need to check on our friends…and I need to take care of him.”

Even as she trusted Asami completely to do what was right, the words made her shudder. Korra was hesitant, but turned away and threw open the cabin door.

As Asami had predicted, the sound of the gun going off had signaled an end to the truce for the sailors on the deck.

Everyone seemed to have managed to retrieve their arms, with the exception of Opal, who had eschewed sword…and spatula. Instead she’d leapt onto the back of a large, hairy man, covering his eyes and riding him like a buffalo bronco, forcing him to stumble aimlessly into the path of his crewmates.

Mako and Bolin were standing back-to-back, making it impossible for anyone to sneak up on them. A group of sailors was rounding the pair, but not yet attacking, as a result.

The chaos even included a small fire that Korra had no idea how it would have started. The _Future’s_ sailors were already putting it out.

She took a moment to admire the tumult her friends had created, and then she catapulted herself into it.

The first sailor to attempt to strike her went with a shoulder-high slash. Korra ducked.

The second man, hoping not to repeat his crewmate’s mistake aimed low, but Korra anticipated this. She jumped, and when she landed, came down on top of his blade. Had he been smart, he would have dropped its handle and continued the fight without it. He was not smart. He attempted to pull the sword from beneath Korra’s feet. So focused on the perceived need to get his sword back, he missed the fact that Korra had moved her own sword to her off hand. She was able to slug him in the jaw, knocking him out with a powerful right.

Having regained his footing, the first man came at her again, but was bludgeoned to the deck anew by the giant Opal was riding. She seemed to have figured out a way to steer him through the pulling of one of his ears.

This left Korra free to charge the sailors still circling Mako and Bolin like hungry tiger sharks. She engaged one and stayed on the aggressive, pushing him back until his coat tail ended up in the embers of the still smoldering blaze. He only managed one more hack at Korra, before he smelled the smoke and realized what had happened.

“Fire!” he yelped and scuttled off to find water.

Another of his compatriots went after Korra, and the two no sooner crossed swords than Hiroshi, a gun in his back, ordered the _Future’s_ crew to strike their colors.

For the second time, responding to the urging of their Admiral, they dropped their weapons.

Asami nudged her father forward, and she guided him toward Bolin. “Would you take him to our brig?” she requested.

Bolin nodded and began to escort a defeated looking Hiroshi away.

“With your permission, Captain, I’ll go with him,” Mako volunteered. “Make sure Tenzin still has everything under control.”

Asami was grateful for the offer. In truth, she had worried about leaving the _Avatar_ , not because she doubted Tenzin’s ability, but because she imagined handling Kuvira might be a challenge for even the most capable leader.

“And I’ll go, too,” Opal said while picking up her sword and spatula. “Make sure Mako and Bolin don’t cause Tenzin any trouble.”

There was one sailor, of course, who refused to leave Asami.

“What about me?” Korra wondered, reaching out to touch Asami’s arm. “How can I help?”

The Captain responded, but Korra noted that a piece of her had gone with Hiroshi. “Do what you’re best at. Inspire people,” she ordered listlessly.

Korra raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Inspire?”

“Did the crew not stand up for you when you were to be lashed?” Asami managed a smile, but the smile seemed sad.

Unsure she really was up to the task, but not wanting to let Asami down, Korra climbed up on to a crate. She addressed the _HMS Future_.

“Is this what you thought service in the navy would look like?” she bellowed. “Pursuing a single ship from one horizon to another…one ship! Do you think those were King Wu’s orders? Do they not sound more like the orders of a man out for vengeance?”

“You signed up to defend your families, and here instead, you’re following an admiral who’s hunting his own daughter,” Korra continued to plead. “That daughter ordered us not to hurt you, by the way! Are our actions those of a crew that’s betrayed what the people of Republic City stand for?”

She noticed some nodding in the crowd in front of her and was encouraged, so she launched into what she thought was her strongest argument. Her tone changed from that of someone making a principled case to one that was more personal.

“Some of you here probably trained with Captain Asami Sato. Do you remember working alongside her? Do you remember how fair she was? How hard-working she was? How kind she was?”

Korra could not help but look wistfully at her as she praised her. It spoke more eloquently than any words she could have said, and Asami recognized her cue. She accepted the hand offered to her, as Korra helped her up to the top of the crate, and if not for the way Asami held it a second longer than necessary, Korra would have jumped down to allow her to have the stump all to herself.

“There’s a reason we used chain shot and fired high,” the younger Sato pointed out. Logic, of course, being the first argument she resorted to using.

“My father…” She swallowed hard, suddenly realizing how much this was going to cost her to say. “My father lied to you. We don’t attack Republic City ships. We have honored our letter of marque. If we haven’t proved that to you by now, hopefully we can in the coming hours…maybe days. We’re both stranded here until we make repairs. During that time, we’ll leave the gangplank down, and you are welcome to visit the Avatar—unarmed—whenever you feel like. Meanwhile, I will instruct my crew not to come here unless invited.”

“If you have any questions, ask. If you have any needs, we will do our best to help meet them. And if you still feel we are a threat when we part ways, we will deserve the cannon fire you send our way.”

Asami stepped down and the greeting she received upon doing so indicated that her words were at least starting to sink in.

She and Korra made their way back to their ship, Korra watching Sato closely the entire way. There was a certain stiffness that robbed her movements of their grace. There was a grief that stole the light from her face. And the fire that drove her had turned inward, threatening—Korra worried—to consume itself and its host.

Their friends greeted them when they returned to the _Avatar_.

“What do you need, Captain?” Bolin inquired.

While he was a bit of a goof, Bolin was also emotionally sensitive enough that Korra thought he was asking Asami for more than her orders.

“Stand guard here, please, Bolin.” She gestured back at the gangplank. “Allow anyone unarmed to pass through. Just make sure they are unarmed. The rest of us can start organizing repairs to the rudder. Korra, you’ll get a reprieve from your punishment. We could use your help. Kuvira’s, too. Let’s not let our guard down, but otherwise treat her as one of our crew. Tonight, she can take Opal’s place in the sleeping quarters near the galley.”

“Oh, Toph is going to love keeping an eye on her,” Opal observed.

The rest of the afternoon, Korra worked alongside Sato. The whole time, she felt like—if they had been alone—Asami would have wept. She needed to keep the crew going, though. Maybe it was for the best that for the moment she had to keep her feelings buried. It gave her time to process. But even someone as outwardly stoic as Sato could not carry a weight such as this for too long, especially since she wasn’t nearly as much of a stoic inwardly.

She cared as much, loved as passionately, and hurt as deeply as Korra ever did, and considering what a deep well of emotion Korra was, that was saying something.

That evening, Asami told her friends that she was going to speak to her father.

“Are you sure you can trust him?” Korra wondered.

“You think I don’t know what my own father is capable of?” snapped Asami.

Holding both hands up in front of her defensively, Korra protested that’s not what she meant, and Asami seemed to calm herself.

“I shouldn’t have gotten angry,” she apologized.

Korra and Asami were able to say all they needed to without speaking a word, but Opal wasn’t.

“We’re just looking out for you, Captain,” Opal volunteered. “And no offense, but your father really should be dancing with Jack Ketch.”

“How is it that you know the slang for a hanging, but can’t figure out the difference between a boat and a ship?” demanded Mako.

“There’s a difference between a boat and a ship?” Opal blinked innocently.

Asami massaged her temples with the middle finger and thumb of her left hand.

“Mako, would you take over while I talk to Dad?” she requested. “And, Korra, I’m sorry, but you have to go back in your chains.”

Bolin seemed overcome at this moment and gave Asami a supportive hug. She rumpled his hair in response. Everyone else followed with their own embrace, ending with Korra—reluctant to break with the Captain—running a hand down Asami’s arm as they parted.

She followed Mako, but when he went to lock the manacles around her wrists, Korra looked at him pleadingly. “I need a _big_ favor,” she said.

Which is how she ended up outside the brig unshackled.

When Asami ended her meeting with Hiroshi, she was surprised to see Korra standing there, but she didn’t say so. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she just crumpled, bawling, into Korra’s arms, who eased her collapse to the deck.

Korra offered soothing, whispered nothings. Then, after Asami had seemed to cry herself out, she attempted to lighten the mood.

“Hey, cheer up!” she said. “Now you get to put me in handcuffs again.”

Asami, with the top of her head so neatly tucked under Korra’s chin, could not see the look of horror that had spread across the swordswoman’s face, so there was hope, Korra thought, that Asami didn’t realize what she had inadvertently implied.

That hope was dashed when Korra felt a wave of laughter start to ripple through the body so warmly pressed against her.

By the time Asami pulled back slightly to examine Korra’s expression, she seemed to have managed to stifle the soft chuckle. In fact, everything about her at that moment seemed soft: the tilt of her head, her gaze, her lips.

The two moved slowly back toward each other, Korra slanting her head in the opposite direction of the Captain…until Asami lost control of the laugh she had previously kept in check. It doubled her over. She wrapped both arms around her own stomach.

Then she snorted.

“ASAMI!”

Korra was sorely upset that the moment had been lost, but something about this was almost as good. Asami was completely at ease. She felt at home with her. This was all the proof Korra would ever need of that. And Korra? Well, at one time, her pride would have been wounded by Asami laughing at her, but now? She would do anything, pay any cost just to make her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off? I'm sorry. I know you hate me for how this chapter ended. 
> 
> However, I am ever so grateful for your kudos and comments! You can't even know. Your encouragement has meant so very much to me. Thank you, friends. 
> 
> If you've reached this point of the story, you know that this is where I share pertinent historical notes. So the gun being described here is a flintlock pistol, which was actually preceded historically by matchlock and wheellock pistols, but was indeed the weapon used in the golden age of piracy. A letter of marque was the paper a country gave a privateer to indicate the actions they were taking were in allegiance to the same. Jack Ketch was a nickname for the hangman, so to dance with Jack Ketch became the expression for a hanging. 
> 
> As for callbacks to the LOK show: "I love you, Dad," is what Asami said before standing up to him, using a weapon he had given her, and which he had not seen coming. She called him a horrible father in the series, too. Hiroshi, as with his television counterpart, tends to one-up opponents by inventing superior technology. Korra being told to inspire others with a speech happens in Turf Wars. The very brief argument Korra and Asami have about Sato talking with her father occurs when she returns from her three-year absence in Legend of Korra. (I've used almost their exact wording.)
> 
> Oh, one other thing? I'm a bit of a sports fan, and Korra's takedown of the Future's first mate is a perfect form tackle in football. 
> 
> Again, I'm sorry about the way this particular chapter ended. Read the end of chapter 3 to see why I did it, and if that doesn't get you to forgive me, then I'm blaming this one on the fact that Korra can be a real (albeit loveable) doofus.


	26. Sailing Into Port

After having cried until she couldn’t find the strength to weep, and then laughing until she lost the ability to breathe, Asami Sato desperately needed some sleep. Korra schemed to make this happen.

First, she volunteered to replace Bolin in guarding the gangplank. That way, she argued, she was still working and didn’t need her chains back on. Next, she begged Asami to accompany her and keep her alert. Her real aim in all of this, though, was to protect Sato from anyone who might disturb her rest.

She was successful in this—at least for the short amount of time that it was possible.

Sato was still roused early from the deepest slumber when repairs on the _Avatar’s_ rudder resumed at dawn.

The crew worked throughout the day, and Asami disappeared more than a few times while that work proceeded. Korra figured it was to visit her father. It turned out this was correct, but only partially so. Asami and her dad, while not having reconciled, had gotten back on good enough terms that he was helping her design some changes to the _Avatar_ , and the adjustments might help them survive the shallow waters they were going to have to navigate soon. However, that wasn’t all Asami was up to.

She indulged her inner engineer for some other tinkering, too. It involved rigging a structure that gave Korra a roof over her head at the same time she was still technically on deck. She could duck in under it if the sun got too hot, or hide if it started storming.

Korra smiled. Her saint of a girlfriend had an awfully mischievous talent for finding a way around the rules.

 _Girlfriend._ It was the first time Korra had used that word, even to herself, and once she did, she could not stop.

_My girlfriend is bringing me dinner from Toph. My girlfriend is telling me about how she and her dad are slowly starting to find their way back to each other. My girlfriend is locking me in cuffs again._

She was really glad she didn’t say that last one aloud.

Korra had a sneaking suspicion that Sato might have been a little less stringent about her punishment, if it hadn’t also meant that the Captain was the one who got to cuddle her in the evenings, as opposed to being the one being cuddled. While both of them cherished the egalitarian nature of their relationship, holding Korra made Asami feel a little bit stronger, more in control at a time when she worried that she was neither.

It was all right. Things would go back to the way they were eventually, Korra rationalized. _Well, hopefully not exactly the way they were_. She thought about the hurried kiss they shared before battling Hiroshi. The only thing Korra wanted now more than to kiss Asami slow and sweet was to honor how vulnerable Sato felt at the moment.

It couldn’t be too much longer. Asami seemed to be healing a little bit every day. As the _Avatar_ was recovering, so was her captain.

And when the ship was finally ready to set sail, Korra thought she actually saw Sato smile.

Before they took off, they did offer the sailors of the still-damaged _HMS Future_ a spot onboard, but because they had been honest about the risks, only a handful took them up on it. They were welcomed the same way the _Avatar_ had always welcomed new crew members: with open arms.

“Thank you for helping me through the past few days,” Asami said, resuming her spot behind the helm as Korra sat and leaned against the binnacle right next to her.

She gave her signature crooked grin and offered, “You’re welcome.”

Asami was sorely tempted to leave the wheel in order to wrap the Southern Tribeswoman in an embrace, but duty and a consciousness that the entire crew was hustling busily around them prevented her, and so she merely looked at her warmly in response.

“How are you doing, though?” Korra followed up.

“I wish,” Sato said slowly, “that I had seen how much his hatred had consumed him. The fact that I didn’t put you all in danger.”

“ _He_ put us in danger,” corrected Korra. Then she went silent again.

Surprised that she had left it at that, Asami prodded Korra for her thoughts.

“I just wonder.” Now Korra was the one to speak slowly. “I realize how important balance is, but I don’t know if you can have too little hate…or too much love in your life.”

She had been examining her own hands thoughtfully. When she looked back up at Asami, she blushed, and whereas before, Korra only thought she had seen Asami smile? Now she was sure.

“That,” Sato replied brightly, “seems like an awfully good theory to test.”

Tending for Asami had taken more of a toll on Korra than she thought. With her own emotional reserves drained, when she fell asleep that evening, her nightmares returned for the first time in a while.

Then, when she jolted awake, Asami was there sitting next to her, waiting to comfort her.

“Hi,” she said tenderly.

Korra was gathering her bearings, and Asami gave her another moment to do so before asking, “Are you all right?”

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“I realized you were dreaming about Zaheer,” Asami said, rather than directly answering the question.

“Shouldn’t you be…” Korra made a panicked gesture toward the helm.

In response, Asami wrapped her arm under Korra’s both as a gesture of affection and as a signal she wasn’t in a hurry. “We took the sails in, remember?”

That’s right. Korra recalled it now. Asami had explained it was crucial she be able to see the colors of the water to know how deep it was. They had slowed their pace as much as possible once it was dark as a precaution.

“Do you want something to eat? Toph brought us some nutcakes,” Asami offered as Korra remained quiet.

The swordswoman looked around for the proffered food and finally spotted the cakes hanging off the wheel’s handles. This made her chuckle. “Guess there’s another use for having a hole at the center of those, huh?”

She rested her head on the Captain’s shoulder as her stomach grumbled. “Is it around time for breakfast?”

Asami nodded. “I’m also hoping that if we encounter another Republic City ship, we do so in the next hour or so. We may have disguised the _Avatar_ , but I still don’t relish the idea of trying to hide who we are when the sun is all the way up.”

The disguise she was referring to no longer merely included a Southern Water Tribe flag. The crew had also dressed themselves as much like members of the Water Tribe as possible. The musician on board had taken up playing a flute made of manatee whale bone, instead of the fiddle. They even pulled the cannons back slightly from the gun ports to avoid looking threatening.

However, all that proved unnervingly unnecessary.

Second by bewildering second, they sailed without seeing anyone else.

Asami pondered it, but could think of no reason to alter their plan. At dusk, they started throwing things overboard to lighten the ship as much as possible, and the Captain focused on avoiding running the ship aground, while every creak of the hull raised her pulse rate. She practically wore out the crew having them measure the water’s depth with the lead line.

Korra’s attention, concentrated through a spyglass, was on the Yue Bay fort. There was as curious a lack of soldiers there as there had been a lack of naval vessels on the water.

In fact, not only did it appear that Republic City forces weren’t going to turn their guns on the _Avatar_ , but the bay’s lighthouse was casting a warm, welcoming glow. Korra continued to scan the port for clues as to why this was. 

Finally, she realized, and she almost cried with joy.

“Asami!” she said pointing excitedly. “See that big man on the deck? That’s my Dad.”

“So we’re safe?” It wasn’t really as a question, more an expression of wonder.

That’s why Korra didn’t bother answering. Instead, she stepped behind the wheel where Asami was and reached for her hand. “Thank you for taking care of my ship,” she said gently.

Sato raised an eyebrow. “Your ship?”

“You turned it over to me, remember?”

Chuckling and shaking her head, Asami inquired, “You do know that was in name only, right? So we could fly the Water Tribe flag? This isn’t actually your ship.”

“Nope,” protested Korra stubbornly. “My ship.” Then softer, almost in a whisper, she added, “My captain.”

Asami faced Korra squarely and clasped hold of her other hand. “Well, you’ve got that last part right, anyway. I’m all yours.”

The light from sunset and the beam of the lighthouse struck them both at the same time. They were luminescent. The crew had to look away from the blinding brightness, and the two women were given their own private moment, even while they were standing in front of a crowd.

Korra lifted Asami’s knuckles her lips. When she looked back up into those gorgeous green eyes, Sato responded with a single, breathless word.

“Please?”

Not even needing to ask what is was Asami wanted so very much, Korra leaned in close. Hesitating at the last moment, only to absolutely ensure she had permission, she smiled when Asami didn’t draw back. Then she finally removed the last distance between them in order to share a kiss.

It was tender. For all its pent-up passion, there was no rush. They knew they had all the time in the world, and the moment was so perfect, both women were doing what they could to prolong it, drinking in the soft, sweetness of it. Still, what started out as hopeful gradually became something more hungry and exploratory, the two women mapping out their next great adventure with their lips.

When they eventually broke apart, Mako was standing there slack jawed; Bolin had covered both hands over his mouth; Opal had an eyebrow raised.

“You honestly didn’t know?” asked Korra noting their surprise.

Mako shook his head.

“No,” Bolin said.

“I just thought your relationship was purely physical,” explained Opal.

She shrugged off the fact that they all turned to stare at her. “Have you watched them sparring?” 

Bolin thought about it for a moment. “Oh.” Then he thought about it for another moment. “Oh!”

Mako was still shaking his head.

They finally maneuvered the ship into port, and Korra greeted her father with a collision that melted into a hug. Their joy was so infectious. Asami had to smile, even though she was escorting her own handcuffed father at knife point. 

“Asami, this is my Dad,” Korra announced proudly. “Dad, this is Captain Asami Sato.”

She dourly tacked on an addendum. “And her Dad, Hiroshi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” greeted Asami politely, and when she went to shake Tonraq’s hand, he crushed her to him.

"It's so nice to meet the captain my daughter raved about!"

Asami cast a sideways glance at Korra, who blushed at this revelation.

By the time Tonraq had released the younger Sato, Hiroshi was already being led away by a stern looking woman with a scarred face—so was Kuvira.

“Wait!” Korra cried.

The scarred woman turned around.

“What are you thinking, Korra?” whispered Asami.

“Her and Toph have been getting along like family…”

“Yelling at each other, you mean.”

Korra nodded. “Let Toph continue to look after her.”

Directing her next comments at the woman, who appeared to be a head of security, Asami called out. “Who do I need to speak to about the Earth Kingdom Captain?

It was not the woman who responded, but instead a rail-thin man with thick eyebrows and hair. “That would be meeeee.” His tone would have been charming if it hadn’t also sounded so self-satisfied. “King Wu,” he introduced himself, taking Asami’s hand to kiss it.

She pulled it out of his grasp. “I would like to talk to you about the prisoners,” she announced straightforwardly.

“Oh, yes.” The King dismissed her concerns with a flick of his wrist. “We’ll do whatever you think is best with them.”

This was not the response Asami had been expecting. “You…will?”

Tonraq stepped in at this point. “After I received my daughter’s letter, I raced to Republic City, and we searched your father’s house, Captain Sato. We know that you’ve been loyal, while he has not.”

“We found evidence of his payment to the man who testified against you in a secret compartment of his desk.” The stern-looking woman had an equally severe voice, but even she seemed to have compassion on Asami on seeing her reaction.

“I don’t want him to hang,” she said simply.

King Wu assured her this would be “no problem,” then offered to make her Hiroshi’s replacement as the Admiral of his navy.

This was all a bit much, and the swirl of developments had Sato feeling like her head was swimming, until she felt Korra’s touch on her arm.

Tonraq noticed and smiled. “We don’t need to decide anything now, Captain Sato,” he offered kindly and warmly. “Especially as it’s getting late now. I should think we should head back to the castle, your highness?”

King Wu didn’t immediately react. He appeared to be distracted looking at Mako. “And you are?” he asked him.

Mako gave his name and explained he was the _Avatar’s_ first mate.

“Well, how about this, Mako? When the _Future_ finally makes it back, she’ll need a new captain, hmm? Let’s discuss it over some cucumber water.” He wrapped his arm around the still brooding first mate’s shoulders and started leading him away. Mako looked back at his friends haplessly.

“Does that mean you’ll be sailing with your brother?” Asami asked Bolin.

Bolin handwaved away the thought. “Certainly not all the time. I’d miss you guys too much. Plus, I love Mako, but ever since he's started repeating Korra’s joke, he’s been intolerable.”

“Korra’s…joke?” Clearly this was something Asami had missed.

“She called us One Botato, Two Botato,” clarified Opal.

“And I’m Two Botato!” wailed Bolin.

Opal shook her head and wrapped up Korra in an embrace. “It was funny when _you_ said it,” she told her, before turning to Asami and giving her a hug as well. “And I definitely want to sail with you again. I’m sure you could teach me to be a great captain. Then someday, I’ll have my own ship…and I can name her _The Boat_.”

Opal and Asami were soon grabbed by another set of arms as Bolin hauled them—and Korra—all together.

“This is just my favorite ship. I’m going to miss you guys!” he cried.

Overwrought, he practically ran away when the hug ended, and Opal rolled her eyes, but chased after him.

Now all the others had flitted away, leaving Korra and Asami alone on the starlit deck.

“If Mako does take over the _Future_ , I’ll be without a first mate. Now, I’d consider promoting you, but…” Asami smiled playfully.

“I’m stubborn?” Korra finished.

“Very much so.”

“Cocky?”

“Sometimes.”

“Unable to follow orders?”

“Well, let’s test that one, shall we?”

Korra raised an eyebrow. “All right.”

Moving closer, Asami instructed, “Don’t make me wait so long for a second kiss.”

“Third, technically,” Korra said while tilting her head. “There was that time, right before we were…”

“Korra?” interrupted Asami with flirtatious impatience in her voice.

The swordswoman got the hint. “Oh, yeah! Well, orders are orders.” She wrapped her strong arms around Asami’s waist and gathered her to her. “And, after all, you’re the captain of the _Avatar_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I did not write over 40,000 words of fan fiction just to make a joke about a port and a portal, but I'd be lying if I said this ending did not make me smile...and cry a little. I'm sorry this is over. However, I do plan on writing more.
> 
> What makes me smile the most? The way you've interacted with this piece. My gosh, and I cannot tell you how much I have appreciated your kudos and bookmarks. Most especially I've loved your comments. You have really been too kind, and I truly feel like I've made a few friends along the way, which is why you can reach me now at BarbWireThong@gmail.com. If you need a kind word, someone to listen, or there are parts of yourself you feel more comfortable sharing with a stranger than the people in your "real" life, that's where you can reach me. (Admittedly, you'd be doing me a favor, as well. I could use some friends who are Korrasami friends.)
> 
> So, as always? Some historical notes. 
> 
> Earlier we discussed one possible origin story for doughnuts. This is another: Instead of a cook undercooking the center of their nutcakes, a captain had asked for a dessert he could hang on a ship's wheel. Yes, pirates used to disguise their ships. They would sometimes even cross dress as women to fool merchant vessels. And water color and lead lines were used to gauge ocean depth.
> 
> Story notes? If you use the word Avatar to refer to both the ship and to Korra, I think you'll find the reading of "The Privateers" a little richer. Hiroshi has a secret compartment that Lin discovers, much like he has a secret underground bunker she discovers in the TV show. Finally and most obviously, the light shining on Korra and Asami as they hold hands and look into each other's eyes is a callback to the end of the television series finale. 
> 
> And I'd encourage you to compare Korra's first words to Asami in chapter one to her final ones here. :) 
> 
> You have my warmest regards. Thanks again for being part of the crew.


End file.
